


Cute Boys with Short Haircuts

by Elle_Nahiara



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anonymous Sex, Anxiety, Bittersweet, Friendship, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, One-Sided Relationship, Present Tense, Seung Gil is Gay, Surprise Pairing, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9363596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle_Nahiara/pseuds/Elle_Nahiara
Summary: Of all the people in the world, Seung-gil had to go and fall for someone who was: 1) dumb as a brick, 2) far away, and 3) getting married in nine months.Alternatively: Seung-gil is unlucky in love. (Un)fortunately for him, he's not he only one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, few things to note before you start:
> 
> \- I love JJ and Isabella together and separatedly. They are a cute couple.
> 
> -Seung-gil is an ass. I love him
> 
> -Otayuri and Emimike will be important. 
> 
> Thank you so much to those who have helped me! Shout out to blackmountainbones for their assistance beta-ing!

Crap, there are tears, and they burn in his eyes like he just downed a drink. They burn like the rage that makes him shed them. Because Seung-gil Lee is _not_ someone who cries out of sadness. Or happiness. Or laughter. He cries out of anger, out of frustration. Just one moment, though, and he’ll be fine.

Or at least okay enough.

It’s been years now since Yuuri Katsuki ended up last. Three years, to be exact, and he wouldn’t be thinking about that if it wasn’t for the fact everyone saw the candids of Yuuri entering the bathroom with a dead look on his face. Seung-gil, at least, remembers looking at them.

 _Pathetic,_ he had thought.

And he keeps on thinking the same, even as he himself goes into the bathroom, fighting the urge to break down into sobs or glare at one of the reporters taking his picture. At least he doesn’t lock himself up on a stall, right? Right. Instead, he washes his face, acting as if that would be enough to hide the redness of his eyes, or the frown, or the fact that he just left in a hurry after JJ announced his tentative wedding date to the world. Like it wasn’t enough getting gold at the Grand Prix Finals, leaving Seung-gil with a painful fourth place. Like the humiliation isn’t enough already for the day.

It’s dumb as shit, because JJ has been engaged since even before Seung-gil and he became friends. Still, it’s not fair.

It’s not fair that someone who genuinely makes him smile is doing this to him.

Look, Seung-gil Lee is _not_ a conventionally good person. He knows that. He is selfish, and rude. He is calculating and he won’t do anything, not even dress nicely, unless there is some sort of profit attached to it. He is self-aware and he thinks that whoever has a problem with the way he is can shut up because he honestly doesn’t care.

JJ doesn’t care either. “You don’t give up. I like that,” he said, during one Skype call. The date of the call and the reason for that being said have become lost with time. However, the sincere tone in his voice -and the wink that accompanied it- hasn’t. Of course JJ would appreciate Seung-gil’s ambition: the stupid song that JJ still sometimes skates to makes it obvious it is a quality they share.

And maybe that’s why JJ likes him.

There is a big probability that JJ appreciates Seung-gil because of their similarities: a daring, confident attitude, an isolation from other skaters (the nature of which is unimportant), and yes, their sudden bouts of anxiety. Unexpectedly, it creeps into their heads and their racing thoughts numb their legs and make jumping hard. They fall, their triples turn into singles, they fail.

But they recover.

And maybe that is why Seung-gil likes JJ so much.

Well, that, and a million other stupid reasons. His appearance, his humor, his inability to read the mood and between the lines. The latter is frankly hilarious, as long as it’s directed to someone who _isn’t_ Seung-gil Lee. To see JJ come out unharmed from a thousand humiliating situations is priceless. To see him actually come out triumphant, like every time Yuri Plisetsky screams insults at him, well… it makes Seung-gil grin (lightly) and feel proud. That’s his friend. Funny, he’d never thought he’d say that about anyone. But the truth is, there’s a relief in friendship. There’s someone you can share with. Because Mongshil is the best dog, but having someone to converse _with_ , instead of _at,_ is pretty good every once in awhile.

And it would be all great if that was where things stopped: friendship. But the burning in Seung-gil’s eyes is a clear sign. Friendship is not everything.

Of all the people, of all the people in the world, he had to go and fall for someone who was: 1) dumb as a brick, 2) far away, and 3) getting married in nine months.

Wonderful.

This ugly commitment has been gestating for years, though. Seung-gil is not an idiot, since he has known that this was coming. Intellectually, at least. The image of those sloppy kisses Isabella gives JJ, and the ring on her hand, and JJ’s voice going soft when he mentions her... they are all etched in Seung-gil’s brain. He has thought long and hard about it, about each and every one of JJ’s defects, too. He has done it hoping the cold splash of rationality would wash the feelings from his heart.

It has not. Obviously.

And truly, he should stop thinking about it, because it’s been five minutes already since he entered the bathroom and he is still trying to get rid of his hitching breath, and burning eyes, and the rising shame because it’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. Isabella doesn’t even skate. She doesn’t even _try_ to skate. What is Isabella? Why care about Isabella? What does she have?

What does she have that Seung-gil doesn’t?

Well, the answer is pretty obvious.

Seung-gil lets out a scoff at that, but it turns into a sniff. He covers his traitorously expressive face with his hands before running his fingers to his hair. He wants to grip, and tug, and maybe even yell, pretending that this is just physical pain.

And then the door opens.

He turns to glare at whoever just came in, without thinking of the tears running down his face still. Behind him, Phichit Chulanont, who just got a silver, is standing. He is smiling softly, but that changes when he takes in Seung-gil’s expression.

Silence.

Phichit opens his mouth. “Se-”

“Don’t.”

More silence as the Thai skater gazes at him with what is probably compassion but looks like pity. Seung-gil has never hated someone so much. And then Phichit goes and makes it worse by narrowing his eyes, examining him, and talking again.

“You were crying.” Seung-gil’s face contorts with anger, but Phichit does not want to shut up, it seems. “And you just left after…” Phichit’s eyes go wide for a second, he actually gasps. And then he has the nerve to say “I’m so sorry.”

Why? Why couldn’t Phichit just be a cheerful idiot? Instead, he was good at piecing things together. Probably a side-effect from reading too much gossip in social media.

“Shut up.” Seung-gil answers, after a bit. His voice sounds shaky, far more so than he had expected it to be. “Just leave.”

“I have to use the bathroom.”

Seung-gil scoffs. “Well, use the bathroom, then lea-!”

“No.”

Seung-gil’s mouth is hanging open from being interrupted. Who does Phichit think he is? “Not a request.”

“I know, but still. There’s nothing you can do to make me go away.” Phichit is grinning cheerfully, like it’s all a big joke. Seung-gil scoffs and moves towards the door. Even reporters are better than this. “Wait!” He doesn’t listen, keeps on moving. “I can help you!”

Seung-gil stops, and glares back at him. “I doubt that.”

But Phichit seems confident. “Well, try it. The most you can lose is time.”

“I don’t like losing time.”

Phichit laughs. Seung-gil Lee walks toward the door, again.

Then the door almost hits him in the face as it opens suddenly. For a moment, he is startled, before he sees that Yuri Plisetsky is barging in. “Move, asshole.”

There’s something slightly off with Yuri’s voice. It quivers while he makes his way to one of the stalls.

Phichit lets out a soft, amused hum, and then there are two pairs of eyes staring at him with puzzlement and anger.

“What’s so fucking funny?” Yuri asks. Normally people get mellower with age. Not his case. Probably because he hasn’t reached his anger-peak. He is still, after all, a teenager.

“Sorry, sorry,” Phichit raises his hands. “It’s just… well, you know!” Yuri lets out a low growl. Seung-gil is opening the door again. “You are in pretty similar situations, that’s all!”

Seung-gil stops, glancing at Yuri, who has just turned to do the same. They stare at each other with a mix between confusion and disgust.

“Don’t compare me to this kid.” Seung-gil comments. He quickly wins their impromptu staring contest when Yuri blinks, apparently due to being offended

“Huh?! I am not a kid!”

“I can’t help comparing.” Phichit mutters. A short pause. “Yurio, you came here because you are angry and wanted to let it out, right?”

Yuri’s face demonstrates fury. He still hates the nickname, clearly, but it’s more than that. It’s the fact Phichit got it right, most likely. But why is the blond so extraordinarily angry? Who is he angry at? Can it be-?

“JJ.” Seung-gil states.

Yuri looks truly taken aback, for a moment, then goes defensive again. “What’s with that douchebag?”

“Are y-?”

“I’m going to stop you.” Phichit intervenes, mirth in his voice. “Or you will get murdered for suggesting that.”

“Suggesting what?!” Can Yuri not keep his voice down?

“The situation is similar. Not exactly the same.” The other repeats, as if that made anything clearer.

“Cut the cryptic shit out!” Yuri demands.

Seung-gil wants to leave, but he feels that if he does, he will get sucked right back in.

There is also something like curiosity. He just tries to think of it logically. Phichit has given enough clues.This is not only about Yuri getting fifth place. No, the Russian prodigy has feelings for someone. That’s obvious enough, knowing Seung-gil’s own situation. It could be someone who is in an established relationship. Like Yuuri Katsuki. Or Viktor Nikiforov. Those are the only people Seung-gil can think of, though, and that’s because those two make a spectacle of themselves, even now they have both retired.

It doesn’t seem plausible.

It also doesn’t seem important, after thinking about it for a second. Except Yuri is, apparently, not a complete idiot, because he’s glancing at Seung-gil with a questioning look. He is trying to figure him out as well. But he could miss the signs, if he hides them quickly. That is why, this time, Seung-gil turns away first.

It is just not soon enough to miss the mix of horror and amusement that goes through Yuri’s face; the sort of expression that belongs on people watching a gory movie.

“No way!” Yuri’s eyes shift between Phichit and Seung-gil, and he grows increasingly excited. “Holy shit, that’s pathetic! You have feelings fo-!”

“Shut up!” Seung-gil replies, voice firm and demanding. At least, he sounds almost normal now.

“I won’t shut up. This is great! Shit, I have to tell someone!” It seems that the anger Yuri felt is completely gone, as expected from a moody teenager. The situation, however, is complicated. If there is anyone who will reveal his secret to the world, it is undoubtedly Plisetsky. Seung-gil feels worry rising.

“No you won’t.” Phichit interrupts, until then apparently happy to just observe.

“Of course I will! Try and stop me!”

It becomes clear in a second that is not something he should have said, because Yuri himself freezes as Phichit covers his mouth to stifle a giggle. “Okay.”

“No! Wait! Don’t yo-!”

“Mila was flirting with Otabek again.”

Oh.

_Oh, of course._

Otabek Altin: a presence that Seung-gil has strived to ignore, an annoying staple in his conversations with JJ. What is so great of the Kazakh, he’ll never understand. Otabek is dull, especially off the ice. He blends with the shadows.

And Yuri Plisetsky is blushing with renewed anger, screaming abuse at an unaffected Phichit.

“-can’t believe you would tell him! Who the hell do you think you are?! I will-!

“-uh huh. I know. But fair is fair, Yurio. You were going to do the same to him, but on the internet-”

They are not listening to each other.

Seung-gil Lee tries to slip out for the last time, only to be grabbed by Yuri with surprising strength.

“You aren’t going anywhere until you promise you won’t say anything.”

They remain quiet for a brief, tense second, in which Seung-gil frowns profusely.

“As long as you don’t say anything either, I might consider it.”

Yuri blinks. “Why, you douchebag! Well, how about you fu-?”

“Hey!” Phichit gets their attention, standing between the two of them and smiling widely. Will he ever stop? Doesn’t his face hurt? “I have an idea!”

Both look at him suspiciously, Seung-gil more so. He is clearly the only one who is willing to abandon the goddamn bathroom for once and for all, but Yuri still hasn’t let go of him, so he can’t.

There’s a long silence, in which Seung-gil can feel Yuri’s grip tightening, more and more.

“Well?! Just say it!” the blond finally demands.

Phichit holds up a finger with one hand and takes out his cellphone with the other. “I just need to call someone else here.”

 

 

They eventually end up getting out of the bathroom, because having a four-person meeting in one is both stupid and not private. Instead, they go to a cat cafe. It is helpful for two reasons: it makes Yuri calm down, and it makes Seung-gil incredibly uncomfortable. The latter, Seung-gil is sure, was Phichit’s main aim.

As Yuri coos at another repugnant feline that Seung-gil has shooed away, Emil Nekola orders a cheesecake. Seung-gil is definitely not happy to be sharing a table with four of today’s competitors, discussing the two other.

“So, let me get this straight -no pun intended,” Emil starts, and points at Yuri. “You like Otabek.”

Yuri huffs a little, which scares the cat he is petting. “Sorry,” he mutters softly at it. “And yes. And if you tell anyone, I will kill you.”

Emil brushes a hand over the tip of his disgusting beard. “And you like JJ.”

Seung-gil merely rolls his eyes, which is more of an expression that he usually makes, so it is taken as confirmation.

“And you like someone, then?” Yuri asks. Apparently he can infer things, but not the whole thing. For once, Seung-gil doesn’t blame him. After all, who even pays attention to Emil Nekola.

“Yes!” he replies enthusiastically, as if having feelings wasn’t repulsive. “It’s-”

“Michele Crispino.” Seung-gil states the obvious.

Yuri still seems to have problems remembering who that is, so Phichit intervenes, stage-whispering: “The Italian guy who screams at everyone who gets close to his sister.”

That is, clearly, enough, because Yuri is making a face. “Both of them suck. Why would you like loud people like that?”

Emil raises an eyebrow, amused, and he is about to say something that probably would make Chris Giacometti proud. “Do not,” Seung-gil interrupts. He then turns to Phichit, who is apparently trying to take a selfie in which all of them appear. “So, why are we here?”

“Give me a second! And…” He winks at the camera as he snaps a picture, and then turns to them. “There it is! Anyway, you all have a problem. You like your best friend.”

“JJ is not-”

“You don’t have better friends,” Yuri interrupts, with a mocking smile.

If looks could kill, that punk would be dead already, but Seung-gil doesn’t say anything to him. “Go on.”

“It’s good to talk about your feelings,” Phichit talks while looking for a good filter for the picture. “You get advice, you can vent, and you don’t have to invent elaborate lies to talk about it. So… how about you become friends?”

Emil laughs, and shrugs. Seung-gil and Yuri say “no” in unison. Phichit pouts, as if that would make them feel bad.

“Maybe not friends, then, but you could talk about it. Think it over, wouldn’t it be liberating to actually admit what you feel?”

It really wouldn’t. Ever since Seung-gil had the horrible realization, it has done nothing but bother him. If he could bury his feelings back down under layers of denial and indifference, he would do it.

“I have no interest in sharing anything with you, much less in hearing you.”

Three pairs of eyes follow him as he stands up and leaves, but this time nobody stops him.

Before the door of the cat cafe closes behind him, Seung-gil can hear Phichit say: “He’ll come around. So, anyway… are you two in?”

They apparently are, because three hours later, Seung-gil Lee is added to a chat group called “Love Counseling”. He reads the first message:

_Hi, this is Phichit, again! I just thought maybe, for those of you who are not comfortable speaking face-to-face, this could be good. Also, here’s the selfie I took today._

Seung-gil promptly leaves the chat, only to be re-added ten seconds later.

_That was Seung-gil (Emil, thank Sara for his number). Say hello!_

Seung-gil scoffs and googles how to stop getting notifications from the stupid app. Once the chat has been muted, he goes back to packing his bags for his travel back to Korea.

Then his phone vibrates. He continues packing. It vibrates again, but he ignores it. Then it vibrates _ten times in a row._

That’s when he knows it’s JJ. Only he would be as brave and stupid as to do that. He opens the app and skims through a bunch of pictures. JJ. JJ and his parents. The streets of Nagoya. JJ again.

JJ and Isabella doing JJ’s pose. JJ and Isabella eating ice cream. _JJ and Isabella kissing._

Just Isabella.

_isn’t she beautiful?!!!!_

Seung-gil types “ew”. Then he deletes it, and changes it for the more neutral: “Shut up, fuckface.” A term of endearment that he only uses with him.

_i lov her!_

“Learn to type.”

_u didn’t congratulate me_

“I had better things to do.”

JJ sends him a picture of what appears to be him trying to pout, or at the very least look serious. Seung-gil seriously considers blocking his contact, because even the failed attempt to be anything more than cocky or obnoxious means JJ had to keep calm for more than a millisecond. He tried. For Seung-gil.

That shouldn’t be flattering.

“Congratulations on your gold medal,” he sends, as he finishes packing.

The reply is immediate: _and????_

Seung-gil scoffs. He is not going to say anything about the wedding. He refuses. “Just congratulations. I’m going to bed.”

_;)_

“To sleep.”

_night ;)_

At this point, Seung-gil is pretty sure that JJ has no idea what winky emoticons actually imply. He probably just likes them.

He can still try and pretend it’s more.

Seung-gil changes into his nightclothes and stares at the phone in boredom. His finger hovers over the stupid group chat and he clicks it, completely on accident.

Apparently, they have been exchanging pictures of Otabek and Michele, in some sort of stupid fight over who’s better-looking. What a bunch of kids.

He’s not getting into this mess.

JJ would win, anyway.

 

 

For hours, as he fails to sleep, Seung-gil tries not to recall meeting JJ. It is to no avail.

Seung-gil had arrived to the Four Continents with his mind set on finding out more about him. All things considered, he had landed the jump that Seung-gil was known for, and he needed to know how much of a competition he would face.

Sure, there were other competitors there he _could_ assess too, but first things first. After all, JJ had been the one to overcome his problems during his short program and getting bronze, not any of the others.

So, initially, it was just out of professional interest.

The hotel in Taipei was okay. Seung-gil arrived before most people did, since that gave him time to scout the best ways to get out if so needed. That proved necessary when Leo de la Iglesia tried to approach him several times to discuss his _Almavivo_ routine.

JJ, to his irritation, was one of the last people to arrive, but when he did, the imbalance he caused amongst skaters was obvious an almost awe-inspiring.

Namely, it was the way that most skaters joined forces to avoid him, in the most polite way possible. “Sorry, I already have plans,” was heard constantly through the hotel.

No one got near JJ, and it made Seung-gil’s curiosity regarding him go beyond competitiveness. That’s when it occurred to him that befriending JJ was convenient. Sure, he’d have company, but only one person was better than a pack.

JJ was having lunch alone that day, waving energetically at whoever passed him by. “Hey, Leo! Do you want to-?”

“Phichit and Guang-Hong are waiting for me!”

“Okay!” A pause, then: “Otabek! Hey, how’s Yuri doing?”

“He’s fine.” And he walked past him.

“Great! We can talk later!”

And that was when Seung-gil sat in front of him. It was also the first time he saw JJ lose his smile while off the ice.

There was shock on his face, instead.

“I’m Seung-gil Lee.” Things he did _not_ do while introducing himself: offer his hand to shake or bow. That was reserved for sponsors and important people.

“I know who you are.” JJ said, looking slightly bashful after his impulsively honest statement. He got over it quickly, though, and gave him a cocky smile. “And you obviously know who I am.”

“Jean-Jacques Leroy, nineteen years old. Canadian. You landed a quad loop in the Grand Prix Finals.” He flagged down a waitress and ordered his food with one short sentence, skipping pleasantries.

“We were also together at the Rostelecom Cup last year.” JJ spoke a second after the waitress was gone.

“I don’t recall that.”

JJ frowned a little. “I got gold.”

“Which only makes me remember I lost. Thanks for that.” He was beginning to think this was not a good idea. Right up until the moment Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki walked by them. The way in which they didn’t even _look_ at them as a clear sign that was going to work.

“Oh! Viktor, still-!” JJ began.

“Stop.” Seung-gil interrupted him, reaching to lower JJ’s hand, with which he was waving. “You are making a fool of yourself.”

“It’s just teasing!”

Seung-gil sighed, and considered his options. He could either be honest or a decent human being. He opted for the former. “There’s a reason you are alone.”

JJ appeared to be confused for a while. “Well, yes! My fiancée is visiting some rela-”

“Not that.” More confusion. What an idiot, he thought. “They don’t like you.”

JJ’s face fell completely for a second, and Seung-gil couldn’t help but think that made him look younger. Or at the very least, his age. The smile that then spread across JJ’s face was not thoroughly convincing. “That’s not true. They just are a bit intimidated.”

“Why would anyone be intimidated by you?” He asked in return, resting his clasped hands on the table, back pressed against the chair. He observed.

“Well! I… I am the King!” Seung-gil decided not to say anything about that, rather choosing to raise his eyebrows in disbelief. JJ’s shoulders slumped a bit and he visibly struggled to find his next words to say, or to fake the next smile. “But you are here. That means-”

“From whatever little I know of you, you are unbearable.” No reply. That was probably a first, ever. “I’ll be honest, that’s exactly the reason I approached you.”

JJ scratched his head, as he let out a considerably quiet: “What?”

“People try to talk to me. I don’t like it.”

“... Why?”

“I’m here to win, not to talk.” His tone held no hesitation. People liked reading into statements like those, clinging to every change in the tone to say stupid things about shyness or awkwardness.

JJ narrowed his eyes. “But you are talking to me.”

“Only for now.”

“I _like_ talking.”

“I can tell. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to listen.”

Most people would have been annoyed at that point. The only person so far who hadn’t stopped talking to him after he gave them that sort of attitude was Sara Crispino. Her resolve was a real inconvenience.

Instead, JJ laughed. “I don’t get you.”

“You don’t have to. I just need people to get the impression we are friends.” Seung-gil looked around. Phichit Chulanont was snapping pictures from afar. Perfect. That meant soon enough, everyone would know.

“I _will_ talk to you.”

“Fine, just don’t expect me to actually answer.”

JJ reached to him and patted his shoulder a bit too strongly. “You got a deal!”

And that was how they became close. Seung-gil gave him his phone number and, each morning, they met on the hallway, got breakfast together, went training together. JJ yipped and yapped about every single thing, but Seung-gil had gotten used to turning human voices into background noise. It was a good arrangement, especially considering JJ didn’t mind not being heard, he just liked the sound of his own voice.

They were, however, not friends. That was very important.

Seung-gil wishes it had remained like that.

 

 

As the sun breaks through his blinds and the birds start singing, Seung-gil’s hopes of falling asleep are destroyed. He can hardly believe he’s been replaying the memory over and over. Now he knows a few more details about that. Details that JJ probably mentioned but he had ignored. Such as: they were able to spend so much time together because one of Isabella’s relatives was sick. JJ was probably worried about them.

JJ was probably lonely, too. After all, he was pretty much a puppy: trusting, cheerful, energetic. The number of times that he draped his arm around Seung-gil shoulders as a way of greeting him, even on the early stages of their acquaintanceship, was frankly too much. Seung-gil has never been into casual affectionate gestures. He always reads into it: _What is this person planning to get out of me? What is their goal?_ JJ has no goal beyond trying to make himself at ease. Seung-gil learned that slowly, in the most materialistic and coldest way imaginable.

Simply put: JJ immediately bought him things. Not big things, of course. At first it was just snacks, a juice, some cookies. That, on the first days of their deal. Seung-gil did not complain. He had his own money, but his theme that season was greed, after all. He decided to honor it.

Then, one day, JJ brought a T-shirt. It was nothing special, just a plain, black cotton shirt. But it was nice cotton, soft.

They had an actual conversation when JJ showed up outside his room, big smile on his face and the shirt in his hand. He looked like a kid on Christmas, except instead of opening a gift, he was the one giving them.

“What is this?” Seung-gil asked. “And don’t answer the obvious.”

“It’s JJ Style!”

That was the first time, but definitely not the last time, in which Seung-gil was absolutely baffled by something that JJ said. “Do you just say that out of nowhere?”

“N- well, yes, but not this time! It’s my brand.”

Seung-gil stayed quiet for a moment, because he was smarter than JJ. He could figure what he meant. Nonetheless, after a second or so, he decided it was not worth the effort. “Your what?”

“My brand. _JJ Style.”_

“... You are kidding, right?” It was obvious enough, when JJ’s smile grew bigger, that he was not kidding.

“This is a new design,” the other said, holding the bundle of fabric above Seung-gil’s head. Suddenly, everything went dark, as the shirt fell on him. JJ chuckled.

Seung-gil quickly grabbed it and threw it back to JJ, who annoyingly caught it mid-air with only one hand. “It’s just a black shirt.”

JJ wagged his finger. “Wrong! My logo’s there, embroided.”

“In black. No one will see it.”

A shrug. “But it’s there.”

Seung-gil sighed. “Okay, so why are you giving me this?”

“I noticed your shirt the yesterday. The one with the dog who looks like it’s laughing?” Seung-gil shifted and subtly zipped his track jacket. Noticing, JJ looked exasperated. “You are wearing it again, aren’t you?”

Seung-gil scoffed. “I happen to like it.”

“This is the third day of the week you are wearing it.” No response. “Also it’s a _me-me_ shirt.” There were two things that Seung-gil didn’t know at the moment: that his shirt was in fact a meme shirt and that JJ was mispronouncing the word.

“So what?”

“You need better clothes.”

“I don’t.”

JJ let out an amused, skeptical laugh and pushed the shirt towards him again. “Change.”

It is important to note: he only did it because maybe wearing the same shirt for three days was a little too much. The cotton of the new one was incredibly soft, too. That was all.

“You know I won’t pay you for it, right?” Seung-gil asked, once he returned from the bathroom.

“It’s a gift,” JJ said, his eyes clearly studying how the shirt fit him. He’d never looked so serious. Luckily it doesn’t last more than a second and then he was back to looking like the idiot he was.

“People don’t just give gifts and expect nothing in return.”

JJ put his hands on his own hips and let out an unnecessarily loud laugh. “You are right. I expect you to wear it.”

Seung-gil narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Several reasons. Which one do you want: the one that’s important to me or the one you’ll understand?”

“Both.”

JJ chuckled. “The first is, then, that you embarrass me.”

Seung-gil was speechless. Was _Jean-Jacques Leroy,_ second-hand embarrassment personified, seriously telling him this?

“I can’t have friends looking like they own two shirts and no style.”

What the hell. They weren’t even real friends.

“But, anyway, there’s also the fact you are a good-looking guy and you look better-looking in it. It helps promote the brand.”

Seung-gil opened his mouth to protest, but protesting would have meant denying he was good-looking. And he _was_ good-looking. It was just…

It was embarrassing to be told that by someone who meant it without any ill intention

“Anyway! I have to go talk to Isabella, so see you later.” JJ patted his shoulder and left Seung-gil standing in the doorway, still trying to figure it out.

Trying to figure JJ out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important note: this is the meme shirt Seung-gil wears  
> http://img08.deviantart.net/68be/i/2015/106/6/1/pun_dog_meme_by_nina06-d7sslj9.png


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung-gil has a badly-timed realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [blackmountainbones](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmountainbones/) and the others. I couldn't have done this chapter without you.

Seung-gil showers. Seung-gil dries and combs his hair. Seung-gil tries not to think. His body feels heavy, his eyes are burning with weariness.Yet he can’t stop doing it, can’t stop dwelling in the past. More out of boredom than anything, he opens the group chat he’s been forced into. Somehow, the conversation has changed into what they do in their free time. In a nutshell: Phichit checks social media, Yuri cooks with his grandfather and Emil risks his life doing stupid things.

Seung-gil plays with Mongshil. He also solves sudokus, even though nobody seems to do that anymore.

He leads a quiet life, for the most part, and he used to be able to go for days on end without making a sound.

Nowadays, the quiet unnerves him slightly. He puts on music. He hums under his breath. Mongshil seems happier with that.

It’s also better for Seung-gil. Skating competitions are, of course, noisy events. A lot of people around. Seung-gil had survived years of them just by ignoring the spectators.

In the Rostelecom Cup of 2015, that had taken its toll. It had started with the sound of the multitudes oh-ing and ah-ing as Michele Crispino skated to a mellow melody, his face serene. Seung-gil fiddled uselessly with his gloves, trying to ignore the change in Michele’s expression, the transformation from just another annoyed (and annoying) bother. There it was: the sinking awareness that, for the first time in Seung-gil’s life, he was doubting his abilities. His presentation score, especially the performance part, had always been medium to low. He could do daring, unexpected things. But that was not what people were looking for. They were looking to feel something.

Seung-gil had never cared for the audience, or the judges. Just the score. He had the badly-timed realization that humans were behind the scores too. Humans who were moved by Michele’s skating. They were expecting something from Seung-gil, too.

He failed to deliver.

Sure, eventually he pulled himself together, landed his jumps, but something was missing. Sensibility. He could not do sensible.

But he buried that thought. He buried it deep beneath hours of practice. His technical scores would be perfect. His movements would be in synch with the music. If he kept a blank face it wouldn’t matter, because people would be focusing on his feet, on his legs, on his arms.

The thing with burying things instead of facing them is that they can resurface.

Case in point: The World Championship, day before the short program.

It was Leo de la Iglesia’s fault. He dared approach Seung-gil during practice.

“Hey,” Leo said.

“Go away.”

“Sure, just one thing. I saw _Almavivo_ , and… It’s really great!”

“But?”

“But,” Leo ran his hand through his hair. “Well, just… relax.”

Seung-gil was about to say he was relaxed, when he realized that was the comment on his performance.

“Get lost.” Seung-gil replied, as he skated away from him. Who did Leo think he was? Just because he choreographed his own programs, he thought he could become a critic? What did he even know? He didn’t need to relax.

He rolled his eyes and bent his knees slightly, preparing for his quad loop.

 _Relax_.

He didn’t land it. Immediately, he could tell things were going to go wrong.

_No. Not this again._

He tried another, simpler jump and hit the ice again. A few people turned to look at him.

 _Relax._ Who even ‘relaxed’? This was a competition. He had to win, he had to at least _place._ Who had time for relaxing? Skating was not about fun, it was about succeeding.

People were staring at him. Seung-gil scoffed and made his way to the other side of the rink, moving quickly. Too quickly. He was shaking.

He was going to fail again. He was going to be a laughing stock, he was going to-

Someone stood on the spot Seung-gil was approaching. Seung-gil would have yelled, had it not been because his chest felt tight and he felt he was lacking air. He tried to avoid the collision.

Instead, the person helped him stop, putting an arm around Seung-gil’s waist. Only then did he register who it was.

“JJ, let me go,” he muttered, very softly. It was possible JJ didn’t even hear him, because he just started dragging him out of the rink. It was also possible this was revenge for Seung-gil not replying to his messages after the Four Continents.

Min-so and JJ’s  father were waiting for them with their shoes in hand.

“I have to warm up.” Seung-gil insisted, and though his voice was weak, it was clearly audible. JJ ignored him, put his own shoes on, then actually knelt and did the same to Seung-gil. Luckily for JJ, Seung-gil wasn’t physically violent or he would have kicked him in the face. People were staring, even more so. He couldn’t blame them. He was just standing there, being treated as some kind of unbalanced Cinderella. He was paralyzed.

 _How pathetic,_ they were probably thinking. Seung-gil could feel their eyes on him, judgmental, mocking. He would not succeed.

Before he could realize it, JJ had dragged him to some spot where there was no one else. Seung-gil felt lost.

“Seung-gil.”

He would not measure up. He would fail.

“Seung-gil.”

He hadn’t even gotten to the Grand Prix Final. He had come up last. And by a large margin, too. He had lost to people who were far younger than him, inexperienced. He had lost because-

“Seung-gil!” He was snapped out of his thoughts by JJ grabbing him by the shoulders. His touch was gentle, but firm. It made him finally look up from the floor. “You have to calm down.”

Seung-gil pushed one of his hands off. “Shut up.”

“Take deep breaths.”

“I said shut up.” Didn’t JJ realize he just couldn’t breathe? That the air didn’t reach his lungs?

JJ looked at him and then let go. He said nothing to Seung-gil, just exhaled. And then breathed in deeply, and then exhaled. And he breathed in.

His whole body seemed to move as the air flowed. Easy. Breathing was easy. Breathing was automatic.

Seung-gil stared, perplexed. Then JJ smiled at him as if he knew something.

“Let the air out.” JJ said. Seung-gil didn’t listen. “C’mon.”

Seung-gil made a face, but obeyed.

“Now breathe.”

Inhale. Seung-gil huffed after a second.

“No, no. keep the air in. One, two, three.” He counted until seven. “Now. Out, slowly.”

Why was he even listening?

“Now in again.”

They did that about ten times, until Seung-gil had to yawn. When he covered his mouth he was surprised to find that he could move without it feeling off, and that his clothes didn’t seem to bother him anymore. JJ must have felt the questions rising in Seung-gil’s mind.

“I learned that during the Grand Prix,” he informed him. “After the short program.” Seung-gil didn’t plan on responding until JJ said: “Anxiety attacks are lame.”

“That was not an anxiety attack. I don’t get those.”

JJ merely seemed amused by his reply. “What’s your favorite food?”

“... what?”

“Your favorite food.”

Once again, he was taken aback by JJ. “I don’t… have one.”

“Do you like ice cream?”

“It’s… alright.”

“Let’s go get ice cream.”

“I have to train. _You_ have to train.”

“We will, later. Anyway, with so many people on the ice, it is difficult to do a lot. Let’s come back when they are tired.”

He tugged on Seung-gil’s sleeve, looking far too enthusiastic about the prospect of going out. Seung-gil looked down. “I… can’t.”

JJ stopped and frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why not!” He sounded like a petulant child.

Seung-gil wasn’t that much better. “I need to win.”

JJ stared for a moment, almost impressed, then laughed. “You won’t. I will. But I’m sure you can get to the podium. Or at least advance to the free skate.”

They weren’t the most reassuring words, but Seung-gil had been expecting nothing of the sort. He certainly would have never said anything like it, which maybe explained why he couldn’t reply. “Mh.”

“Unlike many people here, you got silver in the NHK Trophy. You qualified for the Rostelecom Cup. Ang got sixth in the Four Continents Championship! What do they have to show? Nothing!”

Seung-gil turned away and remained quiet.

“And you did it all by expressing no emotions!”

Seung-gil glared at him, JJ winked. Although he kept silent, they went to get that ice cream.

Seung-gil got bronze at the competition.

“That was so cool!” Leo had said after _Almavivo._

It was then that he started replying to JJ’s messages, instead of just looking at them and rolling his eyes.

 

“Reporters were waiting for you at the banquet.” Min-so tells him, once they are in the taxi, on their way to the airport.

“Hm.” Seung-gil has done a good job avoiding people. He definitely wasn’t going to ruin it by attending a stupid celebration of something he didn’t win. Sure, he could have gone there to celebrate with JJ, for JJ. But that’s actually the last thing he wants to do.

He has Isabella to ‘celebrate’ with him.

Seung-gil frowns, disgusted at where his thoughts lead: to getting tipsy, to passionate kisses, to clothes scattered everywhere.

He thinks he’s going to throw up.

“Seung-gil! Are you listening to me?”

“No,” he admits. Min-so seems as if she’s about to demand his attention. He can read her like that. Seung-gil looks at his cellphone instead, pointedly ignoring her again.  

Min-so is not a bad coach. She offers good support to Seung-gil’s ideas, she researches a lot. She is just very concerned with public image. Seung-gil thinks people should care about his skills, not his personality.

That is why he can’t wait until he is back in Gangneung. Sure, he holds no special attachments to places, but at least she won’t be around him ninety percent of the time, only during training.

He goes through the numbers in his head. Twenty-five minutes until they get to Chūbu Centrair International Airport. Then a two-hour flight to Incheon National Airport. Then about four hours until he gets home. Luckily, the latter he will do alone, considering Min-so has to go do something in Seoul. He doesn’t know what. She just said “personal business”, which is enough to make Seung-gil lose whatever little interest he has.

They are leaving Japan at 11.45 AM. That means, unless there are delays, he will arrive before it’s night. That is good. That gives him time to play with Mongshil, clean everything up, change clothes and leave for a club. If he manages to sleep in the plane or the train, that is.

To optimize his journey, he takes a sleeping pill the moment they check their bags in on the airport.

He gets a message from JJ.

_hotel clerk told me u were gon, u didnt say goodbye AGAIN_

“The guilt is gnawing at me,” Seung-gil types back.

_tell me when u get home!_

“Same thing.”

_i will. It’s going to take some time. Isabella likes it here so were staying a bit longer_

“How sweet of you.” Seung-gil wishes one could convey sarcasm through text. Not that JJ would actually notice he’s using it, but still. His reply is nauseating.

_anything 4 the love of my life <33333 _

Seung-gil feels his lip twitch and his hands shake.

“It seems the flight is going to be on time,” Min-so notes, uselessly. He can see that with his own eyes. There is only one reasonable explanation for that stupid comment: she has seen his face change and wants to ‘talk’ about it, see what’s bothering him.

But Seung-gil has gone years without opening up to Min-so. He is not going to start now.

The “Love Counseling” group has forty-three unseen messages. He only opens it because the notification bothers him.

The first thing he reads is: “phichti, i stg if u keep talkin about shit i’m going to take my cat to bangkok and make her eat ur hamsters”

Phichit has only answered with a picture of himself making a sad face.

Emil begins writing something, and Seung-gil waits just until he replies to avoid another bothersome notification. “Look! Seung-gil is lurking again! It says he read them!! Hey, Seung-gil!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

He shuts down his phone.

 

Due to the night of insomnia plus the sleeping pill, the moment Seung-gil buckles up and closes his eyes he drifts off. Min-so wakes him up once the plane has landed. “I already told your parents we are here,” she says.

It’s always good to avoid annoying smalltalk. Seung-gil’s parents and him have an understanding: meet twice a year, talk once a month, split the inheritance between the two remaining people. It’s nothing against them. They are just all busy people with routines to learn, patients to diagnose and university students to fail.

“Don’t you get lonely?” JJ asked him once, two months after the World Championships, during a Skype call.

“I have Mongshil,” he shrugged.

“Mongshil is just a dog.”

“Mongshil is not ‘just’ anything. Remember that. He’s my best friend.”

JJ was smiling with that weird fondness of him that also looked like he thought he was better than you.

“I’m glad you don’t get lonely.”

“Why?”

“It saves me money. I don’t have to buy a ticket.”

Seung-gil hesitated, before asking something he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t think I would let my friends be lonely, do you? I would invite you over! No one feels lonely around the Leroy family!”

Not quite what he had expected. “What about coming over?”

“I’ve never been to Korea,” JJ’s voice was as casual as ever.

“You don’t seem the type that would be scared of new experiences.” Seung-gil pointed out, a strange sort of hitch in his voice as he imagined JJ visiting him.

“Of course I’m not! I’m not! But then- then I would have to bring the whole Leroy family there. I’m sure you would appreciate the more cost-effective solution. Six people versus just one.”

Seung-gil paused, feeling himself on the verge of a smile. He decided it was time to nitpick, instead. “There are five people in your family.”

“What? No! I’m sure it’s six! Let me see.” JJ starts counting with his fingers and muttering.

“Your parents: two. Your siblings: two. That makes four. Then there’s you. Four plus one makes five, JJ.”

“I know that! I’m not stupid!”

“You could have fooled me,” there was something close to amusement in his voice.

JJ glanced at the camera with a slightly severe look for a moment. “You forgot Isabella!”

Seung-gil raised his eyebrows. “She’s not-”

“Of course she is! She is my beloved fiancée!” JJ’s voice and his expressions showed utter honesty. _Gross,_ Seung-gil thought.

“You are not married yet, so she’s not your family. Also, that makes travelling harder.”

“And that’s why you should come to Canada, if you ever feel lonely! Or if you ever want to come, just because!”

Seung-gil rolled his eyes. The conversation didn’t last a long time because he insisted that they both had things to do.

But once the call was over, Seung-gil just laid in bed, something bothering him.

Right. Probably the fact he hadn’t contradicted JJ when he had said they were friends.

 

Sure, it was frustrating to think of how obvious the real reason for that dull ache in his chest was. Anyone else would have been quick to realize. But Seung-gil had gone twenty years without having developed that sort of affection. No childhood crushes, no young love. He had thought himself incapable of it, which had always been a relief.

Unfortunately, once the symptoms began to manifest, the inevitable diagnosis could only be delayed for so long. All things considered, he would have wanted it to be a private thing, at the very least.

It had seemed a night like any other, the sort where he felt like going out. He put on the shirt JJ had given him. Plain shirts, Seung-gil had realized through careful analysis, were conductive to a higher success rate than most of his other shirts. That was slightly ridiculous, considering the circumstances. But he decided to make things as easy as possible for himself.

After all, it was hard enough being there, considering Seung-gil did not actually like clubs. They were far too noisy, the music always sounding the same. Sure, the language of it varied, depending on the establishment. Some places catered to tourists more than others, but who even listened to whether a song was in English or Korean when the bass was that loud? And who even cared about lyrics when you were looking to grind onto another guy?

So, all things considered, the quicker he could leave, the better. It wasn’t hard, really. As JJ had said, he _was_ a good-looking guy. It took only a quick glance around the place to see a few men checking him out. With calculated precision, he moved to put some hair behind his ear, fingers trailing down his neck. Then he went to the bar.

“Hey, Seung-gil,” the bartender said, as he poured a drink. “Been a while since you were here. How long are you planning to stay today?” Seung-gil merely shrugged. “Ah, still like that, I see.”

It was only a matter of waiting. Soon enough, another man sat by his side. “Hello,” he said, voice low. Seung-gil turned slightly, resting his cheek on his hand and giving him a quick once-over. He was Korean, tall, had his hair dyed blond. He was wearing an expensive looking shirt, which fit him nicely, highlighting his muscles. The man smirked lightly at him when Seung-gil’s eyes reached his face. “Like what you see?”

Seung-gil glanced away. “It’s okay.”

The other raised his eyebrows. “Wow, what a flatterer.”

“Do I get anything out of being nice to you?” Seung-gil kept a blank face, as the man flagged down the bartender.

“A drink.”

Seung-gil scoffed and dismissed the bartender. “You giving me a drink is ultimately self-serving.”

“Oh? Is it?”

“Fact of the matter is: you want me to drink so you can sleep with me.” The other man opened his mouth to protest, but Seung-gil didn’t really give him time to. “I will accept a drink if we have it at your place instead of here.”

The guy was clearly baffled, if his frown and half-opened mouth could be taken as indication. “You mean-”

“Rules are: wear a condom and don’t leave marks in any visible place.” Seung-gil stood up. “Let’s go.” He began heading towards the door, and soon he heard the other rushing to catch up with him.

“Hey, wait! I don’t even know your name! Mine’s-”

“Not important.” He looked around. “Get a taxi.”

The man frowned, but after glancing at Seung-gil again, did as asked. The ride to his apartment was quiet, Seung-gil looked out of the window, at the streets that lead them to one of the affluent parts of the city. His phone vibrated at some point, but he decided to check it out later.

They arrived to their destination. It was a luxurious complex, as expected.

“You are pretty rich,” Seung-gil commented after getting on the elevator.

“I work hard for it. I’m a-”

“I don’t care.”

Again, a frown. Only this time he decided to speak. “You are really rude.”

“You didn’t pick me up because I was nice,” Seung-gil replied.

The man made a face, hesitated. “Well, every time you open your mouth I regret doing so a little bit more.”

It was clearly an attempt to make Seung-gil feel bad, or worried. A bad attempt, if what he wanted to do was forming some sort of connection. Instead, Seung-gil turned towards him and brought him down for a kiss. There was an initial moment of surprise, before he kissed back, although hesitantly. Not deterred, Seung-gil put the man’s hand on his waist and moved closer.

The elevator door opened.

“Do you still regret picking me up?” Seung-gil asked, following him towards a door. He didn’t particularly care for the guy’s feelings, but going back to a club now would be irritating.

“Jury’s still out.”

Seung-gil thought of it a bit. “Well,” he began, as the man opened the door to his apartment. It was a loft. “I can open my mouth for more than just talking.” He walked in.

As he closed the door behind Seung-gil, he said: “I think we’ve reached a verdict.” The guy approached him, with a bit of a cocky smile, moving some hair out of Seung-gil’s face. “You still want that drink?”

“Depends on how bad you are.”

He laughed, but Seung-gil could sense the irritation in his voice. “Are you always this outspoken or do you simply not like me?”

There was no pause before he replied: “Both. But don’t feel flattered. I don’t like people in general.”

His phone vibrated again.

“It’s a good thing you are pretty.”

He was more than pretty, he wanted to inform him. He was also talented. But saying “I’m an international figure-skater” would have meant giving personal information and that just wasn’t in his plans.

Seung-gil inspected the place quietly for a bit, eyes examining the furniture, as well as the abstract paintings on the walls. As he did that, his companion approached him from behind, pressing his lips to the back of his neck. Seung-gil just let him do that for a while before turning and properly kissing him again.

He was not usually patient on nights he went out like this. Seung-gil had not come here for slow and loving gestures. He gripped onto the man’s clothes, mouth clashing over mouth; there was too much tongue. Overall, an eight out of ten. There was room for improvement, not that Seung-gil would actually stick around enough to help him.

After a bit, the guy’s hands were firmly placed on Seung-gil’s ass. Often, that kind of boldness was neither expected nor appreciated. Seung-gil, instead, thought it was far better than him talking and trying to be ‘friendly’.

Then there were lips and tongue over Seung-gil’s neck, about which he had no major complaints. He even left out a soft gasp at the sensation. Mind you, it was completely fake, but he had learned that most men liked getting vocal responses to their actions.

This one in particular got very heated by that. “Uh, so you like that?”

“It’s better than nothing.”

A growl. He probably got a bit annoyed, it showed on his face. “Would it kill you to try keeping some sort of mood?”

Seung-gil bit the inside of his cheek for a second. Right, he was sabotaging himself, even. It was just… this guy was so _stupid._ Even stupider than JJ.

_And not quite as handsome._

He went still for a second, frowning at his own thoughts.

“Oh, so you finally decided to shut up. Good.”

Seung-gil would have been monumentally offended by that, if he had actually cared about this person. But he did not bother with people’s impressions of him. Instead, he looked into the guy’s eyes and then tugged him closer, pressing their bodies together.

“You like a challenge,” Seung-gil whispered in his ear. “Own up to it.”

The man in reply, ground against him. “Maybe, but I can still treat people well.”

“Which is something I never requested.”

The guy stopped, gave him an inquisitive look. “Are you one of _those_ guys?”

“I just think that if you are going for mindless, anonymous sex, you could just be upfront about it.”

The man blinked, then a smirk spread through his face. “You might have a point.”

At that, the man started rocking his hips against Seung-gil’s, finally quiet. It took little time for biology to do its job.

Seung-gil’s phone vibrated again, but he had clearly better business to deal with.

“Where’s your room?” he asked, and he was wordlessly yanked that way, in between hungry kisses. The guy laid him down on the bed, positioned on top of him. He looked at Seung-gil like he was a piece of meat, which he was more than okay with.

The man took of his own shirt, and then he grabbed Seung-gil’s shirt, tugging on it violently. “How about I rip this off you, hm? Would you like that?”

Before he could think, Seung-gil had grabbed the other’s wrist. “No.”

The guy thought it was a game. “Hm, sure.” He used his other hand to do exactly the same, if more clumsily. Seung-gil heard the sound of fabric stretching.

Seung-gil’s eyes widened, and his hand quickly went to tug on the blond hair, in a way that was most definitely painful.

“Hey! What the hell?”

“I said no, you hear me? This shirt is worth more than you ever will in your miserable life.”

A pause. The guy let go of the shirt and moved back. “It doesn’t look too special.”

“It is,” Seung-gil replied immediately.

And then, the question: “Uh? Why?”

Seung-gil opened his mouth to reply, and nothing came out. Why, indeed.

He had no answers.

He didn’t even know how valuable JJ’s brand was. Probably not very.

But he didn’t want the shirt to be damaged.

“Hello?” the guy asked. “Are you going to say something?”

Seung-gil looked at him. “No,” he said, carefully taking off his shirt and examining it. No permanent damage visible. He set it aside.Then he ran his hands over the other’s bare chest. “Not really important, is it? We didn’t come here to discuss fashion.”

A soft laugh. “True enough.” The guy leaned closer to kiss him on the lips. “Now, did I imagine it or was there a talk of other things you could do with that mouth of yours?”

Seung-gil was glad for the change of topic. “Yes. Get a condom and lie on your back.”

They went through the motions. It was not Seung-gil’s first time sucking dick. It would definitely not be his last. He had learned how to do it in much the same way he learned his routines: letting the motions become automatic. First there was an initial assessment. What made this man moan, what made him sigh. Once that was done, it was just a matter of varying the pattern.

Unfortunately, that gave him time to think, as well. Because really. What was the matter with that reaction? It was just a stupid shirt.

But it was _his_ stupid shirt. Seung-gil’s that was. Not…. JJ’s. JJ had lost claim over the shirt once he had given it to him. If he wanted to have it back, he could very well fight him over it.

That… wouldn’t be a good idea, though. JJ was most definitely stronger than Seung-gil. Not that Seung-gil was _weak_. It was just that JJ was ridiculously in shape. Especially considering he was nineteen.

Holy shit, JJ was nineteen. How would he be when his shoulders were done broadening?

Seung-gil closed his eyes for a moment. That was _definitely_ not a thought to be having when you were licking down someone’s dick.

The motions. He focused on the motions. A light stroke, a hint of tongue. There was a hand on his hair, fingers entangled in it.

This guy was average, bordering on big. Nothing Seung-gil couldn’t handle, as he took in his length in his mouth.

“I could tell from looking at you you’d be good at this,” he said, which made Seung-gil pause. Was that really necessary? It wasn’t the first time he’d told that, really, but… the fact that people stared at him and just assumed he'd give good blowjobs was slightly disturbing.

How many people had thought that of him?

Certainly not JJ. He was straight, right?

Wait. What? Why did he think of that right then?

The motions. Bobbing his head.

Still, it made him wonder. He had never asked JJ about that. He had a fiancée. What was there to ask? He clearly liked women.

Then again, liking women did not mean one did not like men.

Back and forth. He tried to focus on the man panting beneath him. It was difficult. The guy was not an interesting person. He was not really expressive.

Nothing like-

Okay, no. Stop that train of thought. _What the hell was happening to him?_

A loud moan made him turn back to reality. He had no idea how much time had passed and that bothered him. The more he’d spent blowing this guy, the least he could last doing something Seung-gil was actually interested in.

“That’s enough.” Seung-gil announced. The man let out an unsatisfied groan. “Where’s the lube?”

“Drawer,” he said breathlessly. They both quickly got rid of the rest of their clothes. Seung-gil got the lube and soon started rocking into his own fingers. He always did that. It required thorough work and he would definitely not entrust a stranger with it.

And he had only ever been with strangers.

A fleeting thought: How would it be to do this with someone he trusted?

A stupid thought. There was no one he trusted.

He worked quickly, impatiently. He needed to stop thinking. He straddled his companion’s lap and positioned himself over him, hands on the man’s chest. It was a pale chest, he realized. He would have preferred someone more tanned.

He rocked himself against the other’s cock. He shivered involuntarily at that.

“Finally expressing some emotion, are you?”

Seung-gil glared down at him and pressed a hand to his lips. “Less talking.”

There was some awkward shifting of positions, but Seung-gil remained on top. He liked that. He liked being in control, not vulnerable. No one could see him being vulnerable.

He felt the man enter him, and he should have focused on that. Instead he thought: “Someone has seen you vulnerable.”

And he had not judged him.

And he had not mocked him.

And they were friends.

And he could hear his laugh, even then. And he could feel his arms around his shoulders. And he could see his face.

JJ.

A rush of heat running through his spine, the man thrusting into him. Those events were unrelated.

It was an uncomfortable situation. No. Uncomfortable didn’t even begin to describe it.

The man moaned. From afar, with his discarded clothes, he heard his phone vibrate. Three times.

That could only be one person. It had to be him.

Seung-gil moved faster, desperate to have something distract him from those thoughts. The bed creaked. He pushed himself down, aching, but not in the right way.

“Fuck,” the man said beneath him. He kept repeating it as Seung-gil sped up, shivering.  It wasn’t enough. Sure, the man met his every movement, ramming into him. And yet, this guy _wasn’t enough._ Seung-gil wanted loud and boisterous, courageous and arrogant and resilient and-

The stranger let out a grunt and he stopped moving.

It was over, and Seung-gil was not satisfied as he moved off him. Not even close to it. He was repulsed.

The man’s breath was hitched as he spoke, glancing down at Seung-gil’s crotch. “What? Seriously? After all that, you are not done?”

Seung-gil glared at him, only for a moment, not wanting to see the man clean himself.

“Well, you went down on me, I might as well-”

“Get me a towel.” Seung-gil extended a hand towards him. The idea of this guy's mouth on him was the opposite of appealing.

A pause. “What?”

“I want to take a shower. So get me a towel.”

The man hesitated. Then he stood up and went to a closet. He handed Seung-gil the requested item. Wordlessly, Seung-gil went to the bathroom. He took a long, cold shower and instead of thinking, he recited a list of all the prime numbers he could remember.

By the end, he felt almost like himself again. He dried off and tied the towel around his waist.

And then he found the man, still naked, with Seung-gil’s phone in his hand. Seung-gil approached and snatched it away.

“What do you think you are doing?”

The guy looked surprised. Eyes wide, eyebrows raised: almost scared. “Hey, calm down. It wouldn’t stop vibrating and it was annoying me.”

Seung-gil glared at him and began to get dressed.

The man observed him for a bit. “So was that why you were so cold?”

Seung-gil didn’t halt. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The person who’s been texting you. This… JJ. They are probably worried about you.”

He paid it no mind as he zipped his jeans. “No he’s not. He’s just an attention-seeking idiot.”

Silence, just as Seung-gil put on his shirt. The man narrowed his eyes and stood up, looking attentively at the black fabric, especially at the embroidered brand. “Oh.”

Seung-gil felt his chest tighten. “What?”

“That’s a mirrored ‘J’, isn’t it?” Seung-gil did not answer. “So, these clothes you didn’t want me to break, they are… his.”

“No, they are mine.”

The man ignored him. “Is this the first time you’ve cheated?”

Seung-gil’s entire body seemed to freeze at that. “What?”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” A lie.

“Are you saying this JJ _isn’t_ your boyfriend?” The stranger inquired, as a disbelieving chuckle rose from his lips.

Seung-gil wanted to say that was absurd. Ridiculous. _Disgusting._ How could someone even dare-? What even made him think-?

Seung-gil Lee’s boyfriend. A boyfriend. Seung-gil had never had a boyfriend. He didn’t want one. Someone to share with, someone to laugh with. Someone with whom to randomly get ice cream.

He didn’t want-

“Oh god, you are actually blushing?!” The man said, a bit amused. And Seung-gil hated him, because he made him notice the burning in his face.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

The man looked at him. “Well, he cares about you.”

The heat only increased, so did his heartbeat. “He does not. He’s just texting stupid pictures, I’m sure.” And as to prove that, he opened the message.

A picture of a dog. Another one. Right, inane stuff. As expected.

But then-

_hey, seung-gil_

_what’s up?_

_you aren’t answering!!?!!_

_seung-gillllllllll_

His heart was beating fast.

_pls tell me u r okay_

Seung-gil quickly answered, without thinking: “Yeah, I am.”

The reply took very little time:

_good. omg, I was so worried!_

A rush of warmth ran through Seung-gil’s chest.

“You look pretty cute when you are smiling,” the man said.

 _Oh no,_ Seung-gil thought, knowing he was right.

He was smiling over JJ. He was….

It all came crashing down far too quickly. He’d been happy around JJ. Too happy.

Seung-gil’s voice came out weak, as he frowned and looked away. “I’m just his friend.”

He felt like a child.

“I don’t text my friends so often.” Seung-gil made his hands into fists, which tightened as the man kept talking. “And you are really hot. I’m pretty sure he-”

“He’s engaged.” Seung-gil glanced down at the floor.

“Oh.”

“... Shut up.”

That was humiliating. He felt small.

There was a lingering question in the air: Is he just a friend to you?

No. The answer was no.

Luckily the words were never said.

After some awkward silence and then some awkward conversation, the man gave him money for a taxi back home. It was on the way there that Seung-gil discovered a new contact on his phone: “Han Jong-su”.

So that was the real reason the man was using his phone.

The sensible thing would have been to block the number. That was what his gut told him to do.

His gut also told him he had feelings for JJ, however.

He kept the contact and, unfortunately, he also kept the feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I feel I should describe, if shortly, my view of Seung-gil. I made a [cover of a song](http://nahiara-the-trash.tumblr.com/post/156011761610/hey-big-spender). I relate that song to Seung-gil. I am definitely not sorry. This is the best headcanon I have ever had.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I would love to know your opinions on this!
> 
>  
> 
> **As of February 26th, this chapter was edited to erase some lame lines. Nothing too important.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung-gil continues dwelling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and thank you for being back here!  
> This chapter will be shorter than the previous ones. I wanted to publish something before I went out on vacations. Also, doing more would have been forcing scenes where they didn't belong so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Anyway, thanks to [ModernArt2012](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernArt2012) for beta-ing this, to [KataBulo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/KataBulo) for the help with French, and to **Snippy** for their continued support. And to you, reader.

After that, it had taken Seung-gil months to go to a club again. It was a mix between the dread of repeating the experience and the fact Jong-su had an interesting network, a lot of resources and, frankly, too much time on his hands. He discovered Seung-gil’s name, he discovered he was a skater, and he sent him several texts about it. They were littered with ignorant comments that Seung-gil had no energy or interest to correct. It was very likely that Jong-su also discovered who JJ was, but he had the decency not to mention him any of the times he took Seung-gil out for dinner or to rich people gatherings. 

Those were very good months as far as practicality was concerned. Jong-su found Seung-gil’s suits dreadful, so he bought him three different ones. Also he met a lot of potential sponsors, not to mention older men who stared at him far too long. Seung-gil took advantage of it all. The problem with that, however, was that one had to remember their names and their preferences.

So, after a while, he returned to clubs, balancing the sex that got him things and the sex that was actually for physical pleasure. It was either one or the other, never both. 

But things weren’t the same. 

Requirements evolved together with his feelings. The former became more precise, while Seung-gil began to accept that bothersome affinity for JJ was a crush. A crush that didn’t vanish. Slowly, he learned that feelings weren’t as clear-cut as movies made them seem like. They went through stages, they developed, they grew stronger and then they tricked you into thinking they had disappeared only for you to come across a picture of JJ singing, sweat-covered and posing in a way that should have been ridiculous but wasn’t: his eyes shining in the spotlight, his smile big and bright. Also, he was shirtless. Enough to make Seung-gil toss his phone aside and say: “Get it together. It will pass.”

It still hasn’t. Even worse, now Seung-gil must admit what it has turned into: love. 

It doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. 

Simply put, if it were possible to forget about JJ, he would in a heartbeat. Sure, that would leave JJ friendless, but, hey, he had Isabella to comfort him. 

Actually, not even that. Surprisingly enough, JJ had friends in Canada. So, yeah, he would live on. But, anyway, it didn’t matter. He could not erase JJ so easily. He could try to ignore him, but now Seung-gil had started two-sided conversations… well, it wouldn’t be all that surprising to one day come back into his place to find JJ waiting for him.

And Isabella with him. 

That is the thing. Isabella accompanies JJ everywhere. 

At Four Continents, it hadn’t been obvious, due to that sick whatever of hers. At the World’s Championship, Seung-gil had seen her a few times, but not nearly as much to feel her looming presence. It had probably been a consequence of Seung-gil’s sudden inability to cope with pressure. Maybe JJ was wiser than he looked like, and had kept her away. 

That doesn’t seem likely, but it is the only possibility he can come up with. 

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to keep her away. He still remembers his first ‘proper’ interaction with Isabella. It still hurts. 

It was 8 PM in Seoul when Seung-gil started the Skype call which meant it was 6 AM in Montreal. Due to the big time difference, they had decided that each week one of them would suffer in the morning by waking up early to talk to the other. It was JJ’s turn.

Calling JJ at that time was always a gamble. Either he could be awake, dressed and expectantly waiting in front of the screen, or he could still be, presumably, snoring away. But he always woke up soon enough. That was why it was such a surprise when it took two tries to get JJ to pick up. 

When he did, there was a tray being placed near the screen. “Hold on a second,” he heard JJ’s voice, quieter than usual. Then he popped into frame. Shirtless, again, and wearing only boxer-briefs, which bore a pattern of maple leaves. Seung-gil rolled his eyes

“Put on some clothes,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and then very deliberately looking away, only to stare back when JJ laughed. 

“It’s Summer in here, SG.”

Seung-gil glared. “One, it’s spring here, and I’m still wearing clothes, a-”

“It’s late there, of course you are wearing clothes. I haven’t had time to shower yet, I was busy making breakfast, because-”   
  


“I’m not finished talking,” JJ had that annoying habit of talking endlessly. Seung-gil, however, would not allow people to speak over him. 

JJ, luckily, seemed to have started to understand how things were. “Sorry,” he muttered, as he cut piece of what Seung-gil presumed was  _ King JJ’s Renowned French Toast _ (so far, the only thing Seung-gil knew about what made it different was that it was cooked by JJ himself. JJ just liked putting his name on stuff). 

“Also, if you ever call me SG again, I will strangle you.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to sic Mongshil on me?” Seung-gil opened his mouth to speak. “Oh, no wait. Mongshil wouldn’t hurt anyone. Especially not me,” he winked at the camera. 

Seung-gil would have loved to protest, but that was true enough. Mongshil absolutely adored JJ, without having met him. He often ran into the room the moment that he heard JJ’s voice, and Seung-gil was normally relegated to the background as JJ talked animatedly to his dog. 

“Where is he, anyway?”

“I just gave him food, he’ll be here soon enough.”

“Ah, okay. I was starting to miss him,” JJ did that thing where he laughed and his shoulders shook. “I’m really looking forward to meeting him someday.”

Seung-gil wanted to say:  _ Come here.  _ Instead he settled for scoffing and muttering: “That way maybe you could help me get ready to move.”

“Oh, you are already packing? I thought you didn’t graduate until February?”

“I have to do things ahead of time. Between training and studying and-” 

“Hanging out with friends-”

“Not exactly, but close enough.” Seung-gil hadn’t explained about his little affairs. He saw no need for it. “Plus taking care of Mongshil… I don’t have that much time.”   
  


JJ shrugged a little, shaking his head. “Who does, right?” Seung-gil almost laughed at his sincerity, when JJ stretched his hand to something out-of-frame, to his right.

“Hmmm?” Seung-gil heard the low voice of a woman. 

_ Oh, no. _

“Bonjour, mon Isa _ belle _ ,” JJ greeted, in the most obnoxious way possible, before leaning over to his right. There was the sound of female chuckles and kisses. Seung-gil stared at the screen, at the way JJ’s back was turned to the camera, muscles slightly flexed and, oh, he couldn’t look away.

“Hey there,” the female voice -clearly Isabella’s- responded.

“I made you breakfast,” he whispered softly. 

“Oh, what a gentleman!” she playfully replied. 

And Seung-gil felt like he’d been struck by a wave. There were some other exchanges, surely enough, but he zoned out. Right until the moment JJ came back into frame. “Hey, Seung-gil! Say hi to Isabella!” he grinned and turned the laptop towards her, who was stretching her arms. 

The only thing Seung-gil was thankful for was that she had clothes on. Up until the moment he realized that there was a probability they had shared a bed without doing anything more which was something Seung-gil had never experienced. 

He felt like a weird sort of emotional voyeur. He would have preferred to be a regular one, even if he was revolted at the idea. Anything was better than that. 

“Hi, Seung-gil!” Isabella waved, happily. 

Seung-gil took a deep breath, trying to remember how to speak. “Yes. Hello.”

Everything told him to just close the laptop and go away, but he didn’t. Not even when JJ turned to kiss Isabella’s forehead before announcing “I’ve got to shower. Real quick. You two should chat a bit.”

And just like that, he left. 

There was silence. Seung-gil refused to say a word first. He wouldn’t. He almost never did, either way. 

“So, how are you?” Isabella asked, as she ate her breakfast.

“... Fine.” 

“Oh, that’s great! I’m good too!” Isabella said, even though Seung-gil had definitely not asked. He did not care for her. He didn’t want to be in that situation. 

He looked away from the screen, not knowing what to say and, for the first time in a long while, feeling as if he was forced to actually remain in that awkward conversation. “You didn’t take off your makeup last night,” he commented, for lack of absolutely anything to say. Was that insulting? Did he care if he was insulting? Probably no to both.

“Oh, yeah, that. I sort of drifted off, immediately after-” she stopped and flushed lightly, letting out a giggle. Dammit. Seung-gil would have absolutely preferred her mentioning whatever the hell she and JJ and done. Now instead of having one mental image, he had hundreds. “- Well! Anyway! So I was really tired and I just went to sleep after changing. I know it’s not good for my skin, but-” Seung-gil pursed his lips, “- oh, is something wrong?”

  
“No,” Seung-gil replied, but he wanted to say yes. He wanted to say the last thing he wanted was to have that conversation, or any type of conversation with her. He did not like her. She was obnoxious, she was loud and far too honest about her affection for JJ. 

It made Seung-gil suspicious. Did she really feel like that? Did she really want the best for JJ? He couldn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust anyone. JJ was talented, that much was true. He was also ridiculous as a person. Too over-the-top, impetuous, impulsive.

And far too nice and trusting for his own good.

“It just looked like you had something on your mind,” she muttered, with a shrug. 

  
Well, who didn’t have something on their minds? What a stupid comment. Of course he did. It wasn’t as if a dull conversation could drive him away from his thoughts. His thoughts were much more interesting than Isabella. 

Seung-gil shrugged and they remained in awkward silence for a while. At least for Seung-gil, it was awkward. Isabella was just drinking coffee. He knew it was coffee because JJ absolutely refused to buy tea.

“So,” Isabella chirped in, “you and JJ are pretty close now, aren’t you?”

He didn’t look at her, he was instead staring at the mousepad, about to click the “End Call” button. Her voice was grating. Not extremely high, maybe, but feminine enough. He preferred low voices. Warm, rich, deep.

And then JJ’s, which was just… something else. 

“Yes,” he replied, without thinking, and then he wished he could backtrack, because Isabella got a victorious look on her face. 

“I knew it!” Seung-gil’s breath got caught in his throat. What did she mean? Knew what? “You two  _ are _ friends.”

  
He breathed again, softly. It was just that, she was referring to nothing else. He ran his hand through his hair as an excuse to not have to make eye contact. “I guess.” She chuckled, apparently content to hear that. “He’s annoying.”

Seung-gil had told that to JJ himself several times, so it was something alike a joke for them. Isabella didn’t seem to know that, because she made a face. 

“He is not! You shouldn’t talk of your friends like that, you know?”

Seung-gil made his hands into fists. Well, JJ certainly wasn’t the most annoying person there. That much was true. _I’ll talk of him however I want to_ , he thought. But what if she could do something that would stop JJ from talking to him?

Well, technically, that would be great. Just what he wanted. Just what he needed, really. For JJ to go away. He opened his mouth.

And then he closed it. 

More awkward silence. 

No, if he had to stop talking to JJ, it would be on his own terms, not a gamble like that. Something Seung-gil chose. 

“Were you going to say something?” Isabella asked, suddenly happy again. Changeable, Seung-gil decided.

“I was just going to call my dog,” he lied.

“Oh. And why didn’t you?”

“He must still be eating.” It was a very lame excuse. 

“But I want to meet Mongshil!” Seung-gil took a deep breath. Who cared about that? She didn’t deserve to see his dog

Silence.

“Did you know,” she started, “that Monghsil means-?”

“I am  _ Korean _ . ‘Mongshil’ is not only a Korean name. It’s the name of  _ my  _ dog. I named him. Of course I know-”

“Well, you didn’t tell JJ! Even though I know he asked. So maybe- I don’t know! I just thought-” she pouted slightly. Then her face changed again, into a smile, and she waved her hand in front of it, as if dismissing the topic.  “Anyway! It’s such a cute name! I haven’t told him yet what it means, though,” she winked, which just looked… off. 

Seung-gil  _ could  _ have asked why she hadn’t but he did not really care. JJ would have explained anyway. She didn’t. 

They both heard a door opening, and Isabella’s laughed lightly. “JJ! Put some pants on!”

“Yes, yes. On it!”

Seung-gil kept feeling like an intruder, but he kept waiting for JJ to appear, as if that would make it all okay. 

“Ta-da~h!” JJ appeared, making jazz hands at the camera and wearing another pair of briefs, plus some undone jeans. “Here I am!” He announced, unnecessarily and loudly. 

He heard paws dragging across the floor and, in a second, Mongshil was on his lap, while Seung-gil struggled not to drop his computer.

“Oh! Look who’s here! Hi there, boy!” JJ said.

  
“Oh my god! He’s beautiful! Hi there, Mongshil!” Isabella cooed. 

As Seung-gil straightened up and rearranged himself, the pair continued muttering “What a good boy!” and other ridiculous things like that, which made Mongshil wag his tail and bark at the laptop happily in reply. 

Seung-gil got the sudden feeling that even his dog liked Isabella more than him. 

He froze for a moment, before setting his hand on Mongshil’s back. The dog immediately turned around and licked his face, washing away his fears. 

“Mongshil, no!” Seung-gil demanded, in Korean, trying to stifle a chuckle. “Sit down, be calm!” Usually Seung-gil didn’t mind, but there were people looking at him and-

“Oh, that’s so cute!” Isabella muttered, softly, as if she was deeply moved. 

Seung-gil would have scoffed at that, if her comment hadn’t been immediately followed by JJ saying, voice soft:

“Yeah, it is.”

Seung-gil felt a wave of heat through his body, especially his face.  _ Don’t be foolish,  _ he told himself,  _ he’s talking about Mongshil.  _ But the fact of the matter was he was flushing wildly at the thought of JJ ever calling him cute. Desperate to hide it, Seung-gil basically faceplanted into Mongshil’s fur, which startled the dog a bit. 

“Shhh, shhh,” Seung-gil whispered softly, as he heard JJ’s laughter through the speakers. Maybe Isabella was laughing too, but JJ was so loud that he drowned her out. And Seung-gil could pretend for a minute.

Only for a minute.

Then the cold reality came back to him, as JJ’s laughter died out when Isabella commented: “Huh? Did he die? Seung-gil!”

He did not lift his head, but he did continue petting Mongshil. 

“Ah, no. He’s fine.”

“Good.” JJ replied, and Seung-gil could see him, could imagine him, hands on his waist, head slightly tilted to the right. Hair still wet from the shower. “He must be tired.”

Seung-gil bit his lower lip and looked up. “I am.”

“Then go to sleep!” Isabella commented, and it felt as if she was pushing him away. 

Often, Seung-gil and JJ would chat for hours. Well, JJ would. He’d make Seung-gil watch the movie he was watching, he’d cook while on camera, he’d converse with his sibling casually. Seung-gil let him, even enjoyed it, at times. He wanted it to last.

This time, he announced: “She’s right. Goodnight.”

“Ah! Night, S-”

He cut off the call before they were finished saying goodbye.

Seung-gil put the laptop aside and, sighing, re-buried his face on Mongshil’s fur. 

“This sucks.”

He had gone to a club right after that.

  
  


Before JJ, Seung-gil went to clubs because he had physical needs that apparati and he himself could satisfy but less efficiently. The experience with Jong-su was eye opening in that too. Meaning: sometimes it was better to stay home and take matters (and other things) into his own hand.

But when he needs to stop hearing JJ’s laugh, JJ’s music, JJ’s voice; when he needs to stop feeling his arm around him, making Seung-gil ache both for and because of his touch… that is when he goes to clubs. The music he hated before shakes him to his core, bass and drums making his heart beat. Sometimes it seems that is the only thing that  _ keeps  _ it doing its job, instead of tearing itself apart with disgusting memories and imaginations. 

He dislikes that part of himself. It’s too dramatic. Too troubling. But it’s there.

And it’s there on his ride home from the airport to Gangneung. If there were interesting people there, he would not consider going to a club, but it’s silent. The only person who is there is a woman selling candy. Seung-gil does not buy any. 

He arrives home and Mongshil jumps on him. Jong-su greets him, from afar, while he checks his own cellphone. “Hi. He behaved well. Also, I used your bed, but I changed and washed the sheets.”

Seung-gil is petting Mongshil, his attention on the dog. He does not even glare at Jong-su. This has become a bit of a habit. “Who were you with? Wait, don’t tell me. You were pretending you lived here, so it’s neither of the boyfriends.” Jong-su nods. “Stranger, then. So three is not enough.”

“The wonders of being in open relationships,” Jong-su says, typing a text. “Saw you didn’t win.”

“I was close to it,” Seung-gil stands up, which makes Mongshil very sad. He pets him once more. 

Jong-su finally raises his eyes to see him. “So, what are you doing?”

“Going out.”

“Oh, where?”

“Club.”

“If you need someone, I can.”

“I don’t  _ need  _ anybody. And I don’t want you.”

“Not tonight, you meant.”

Seung-gil shrugs. Their conversations are always like that: efficient. So is sleeping together. So is everything between them.

“I’ll go home, then,” Jong-su says.

“Yes.” 

Jong-su grabs his things while Seung-gil types a message to JJ and to Min-so. “Home”

Jong-su leaves without any further comment. 

Seung-gil proceeds to do as planned: he plays with Mongshil and takes him out for a walk, he unpacks, he takes a shower. JJ has not read his message after an hour. That’s not so strange. JJ uses his phone less frequently than some people (for example, Phichit, who just sent a message to the ‘Love Counselling group. Something Seung-gil doesn’t check). But when he uses it, he uses it for ages.

The chosen shirt of the day is a button-up one. Slightly boring, yes, but at least it doesn’t smell like he just got it out of a luggage bag. 

Mongshil is sleeping on his bed by the time Seung-gil gets out. 

He goes to a club which caters especially to foreign people’s tastes. The now-unmistakable sounds of Lady Gaga and Christina Aguilera’s voices annoy him, but it could be worse. 

As always, he scans the club for the people who check him out when he walks through the door. That night, he settles for a Slavic-looking Ken ripoff. But before he can let out the typical “Hello, I’ll let you buy me a drink”, there is a loud guffaw, from across the club. 

Yes, something- no, someone so loud that his voice is audible despite “Born this Way” blasting through the speakers. Seung-gil changes his path without even realizing it, following that voice. 

And he finds the source. By the bar, in a corner, a man stands. His hair is brown, his hair as spiky as the short length of it will allow. He is broad-shouldered, tan. Overall, nothing special. 

But his eyes are closed, subtle wrinkles forming at the corners. His shoulders shake as he laughs, the way that JJ’s do. He doesn’t  _ look  _ like JJ, but he moves like him. There is a careless certainty as he gently pats a woman’s shoulder. He has no worries. He has no fears. 

Seung-gil wants him. 

It’s something that doesn’t happen all that often. At least not with such an intensity. Seung-gil is shaken. He is, in fact, trembling a little. He is not afraid, but enthusiastic. He is clinging to the brittle hope that this man, who talks loudly and with his whole body, will be able to push away the thoughts of JJ. 

So Seung-gil approaches him, and, for once, he’s at a loss for words. Instead of saying anything, he frowns at him, and it more or less works, because this guy turns to him and, tilting his head a little to the right, asks:

“Hello, can I help you?”

Seung-gil is extremely straight-forward, when it comes to those sort of things. He almost uses the usual line, but his tongue seems to be tied. He just manages a weak “Yes.”

This person chuckles. His eyebrows are thinner than JJ’s, but they knit together in the same angle. It’s uncanny. “Okay, gotta be more… clear. Is it that you don’t speak English?”

Oh, he sounds  _ condescending _ . Arrogant _.  _ Seung-gil takes a deep breath. 

“I can speak English perfectly well,” he finally manages.

“Alright! Good, because I can’t really do much in Korean.” Silence. “So, what do you want?”

_ You _ , he thinks.  _ I want you to be loud, and I want to feel your body shake as you speak.  _

“Come on, don’t be shy!”

Seung-gil feels flustered. And extremely frustrated. He has done this a good few times. But he can’t. Instead he says “Can I buy you a drink?”

He feels the man’s expression -mouth and eyes slightly more open than normal- mirrors his own. Since when does Seung-gil offer drinks to people? But this person… this person, he needs. If only to stop himself from imagining what it’s like to be wrapped in JJ’s arms. 

“Oh.  _ Oh,” _ the man says, letting an awkward laugh as he scratches the back of his head. “That is… wow, I didn’t expect this to actually happen.”

Seung-gil stares, lips pursed, waiting for a reply. But this man babbles on, shifting his weight from foot to foot..

“I- man, don’t get me wrong, I mean. You are really pretty. Like, wow. Seriously. But- It’s not like I don’t want to. I mean, yeah, but also no, it’s…. It’s kinda-”

Trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach, tied to an annoying sense of premonition, Seung-gil scoffs. “Just get on with it.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

Seung-gil frowns. “Why would you be at a club if you already have a boyfriend?” He inquires, annoyed. 

  
“What? Well, to… you know, dance? Have fun?” 

Those sort of things had never crossed Seung-gil’s mind. 

As he is about to protest that he can do all of that at  _ home _ , a short redhead approaches them. The man puts his arm around his waist, nuzzling into him.

“What’s going on here, Andy?” Redhead says, though there’s a glint in his eyes that says he knows.

“Ah, nothing. It’s just...  this guy was just-”

“I’m Seung-gil. I was offering your boyfriend a drink.”

Andy seems to be offended that he told him. “And I said no, of course!”

Silence, then the redhead speaks again: “Oh, shame.”

Both Seung-gil and Andy turn to him. “What?” The brunet says, confused.

“He’s cute. I mean, have you never thought of a, what’s the word again… a-”

“Threesome.” Seung-gil finishes. 

“That!”

Seung-gil glances at the small redhead. There is literally nothing of him that he finds appealing. He’s pasty white. His eyes are a weird, luminous green. He could be wearing contacts, because that color is most definitely unnatural. But he would put that aside. 

If it wasn’t because Andy is looking at him with the same adoration JJ looks at Isabella with. 

“I don’t share,” Seung-gil announces, throwing a murderous glance at both of them before turning back towards the door. 

As he leaves, he hears Andy’s strong voice say: “Wow, I thought they were supposed to be polite.”

Seung-gil shakes with rage. Rage and humiliation. Andy is an asshole, that much is clear. And still, he feels he would still turn around and accept him it it weren’t for the fact he and his  _ boyfriend  _ are, apparently, a package deal. 

If he wanted to watch two people in love having awkward sex, he’d watch movies about that. He’s certain there are a lot, even though the exact number is unknown because he’s never bothered to look. Because he is simply  _ not interested.  _

He wanted to feel the man’s breath on his neck, he wanted to feel his rough hands over him. He wanted…. He wanted it too much. It was ridiculous. It made his chest ache.

On his way towards the door, the Slavic-looking man from before stops him, and Seung-gil pushes his hand away. 

“Hey!” he speaks with a heavy accent. “Before, you were wa-”

“Shut up!” Seung-gil barks, and a bouncer seems to be heading their way. “Don’t bother. I’m leaving anyway.”

And he does.

  
  


When he gets home, he prepares himself a drink, still dizzy from the anger and the humiliation of having had to go through that. 

He was so desperate. 

As he sips on his very basic rum and coke -a drink JJ had taught him how to make and therefore a bad choice- Seung-gil’s mind is reeling. How could he get so needy over someone he didn’t even know? Just because he moved like JJ. It meant nothing. Just because he grinned widely. 

It isn’t okay. To feel like that isn’t okay. It is pathetic.  _ He  _ is pathetic, losing his ability to speak because a guy turned his head exactly the right angle when talking to him. 

But most of all, it is not fair. It just has to happen that the person he got interested in is in a relationship with an annoying person, whom they love very much and-

He downs his drink very quickly. Mongshil looks worried, so Seung-gil tries to speak to him. “I’m just very pissed off right now, I thought I had finally found  _ something  _ that would make it go away, and... “ Mongshil stares at him, with understanding eyes. But he is a dog. He cannot tell anything to Seung-gil. No supporting words. He can’t even be angry at him.

He thinks about contacting Jong-su. But that is ridiculous. They aren’t like that. Except for that tiny slip the day they met, they don’t speak about feelings. Or interests. They speak in deals, in appointments, in facts and figures. 

Then there’s JJ. He can omit information. But it would be too contrived and JJ is too nosy. If Seung-gil lets it slip that he has feelings (and, even worse, feelings for someone), he’ll never hear the end of it.

That’s when he recalls it. 

“You don’t have to invent elaborate lies to talk about your feelings,” Phichit said.

And the words don’t stop going through his mind.

It’s 11.47 PM in Korea. 9.47 PM in Bangkok. 6.47 PM in St. Petersburg. 3.47 PM in Prague. That, if they have returned to their homes. They probably haven’t. And Nagoya is the same timezone.

Seung-gil opens the messenger app and scrolls down through pictures of Phichit’s hamsters, Yuri’s cat and what very much looks like a gigantic serpent of some kind. 

He takes a deep breath.

“Get back on topic,” he sends.

The replies don’t even take a minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, very important things.  
> [These](http://www.hatley.com/en_ca/maple-leaves-men-s-boxer-briefs.html) are the boxer-briefs JJ is wearing at the beginning of the call.  
> Also, **have you wondered what Jong-su looks like?** Probably not. But still. Jong-su looks pretty much like [Kim Jaejoong](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/C3EXeqjUkAEernD.jpg), minus tattoos. I have more hc's on Jong-su, but really, I decided I wanted to put some extra information here with each chapter, so... hope you enjoy me being a nerd! 
> 
> Opinions and constructive critique are greatly appreciated!
> 
>  **Note on February 17:** I edited this chapter because it had some mistakes. I'm working on the next chapter but it has been difficult so far. Sorry!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations start. Seung-gil is unconvinced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. 
> 
> So, that took a long time. I'm very sorry about that. I just had a really hard time with this chapter. 
> 
> Once again, thanks to all [the people who helped](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernArt2012) [me out with checking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muspell). 
> 
> By the way, I had to do a small edit on the last chapter, since I discovered my initial research had been wrong and the academic year in Korea doesn't end until February, it seems.

Emil Nekola, of all people, is the first one to respond. His reply is neither deep nor well written. It is clear quality was less important to him than speed:

_Maaaaaaaan, fianlly._

Then there’s Phichit, not very much later. An almost surprising accomplishment. He must be very used to typing on his phone:

_Seung-gil! I knew you’d come around. We are very happy!!! In case you don’t understand what we are talking about, or really, anything, ask me!!! I don’t mind!_

In response to that, Seung-gil just rolls his eyes. He debates for a long time between replying ‘Alright’ or ‘Sure’, but both seem like Seung-gil is too invested on the conversation. He settles for “Right”, which appears skeptical enough.

Meanwhile, Yuri continues to type, pausing every now and then. Seung-gil wants to answer something, but the notification popping up all the time is distracting, so he only manages to type a few words, which he promptly deletes when Yuri’s reply finally takes the entire screen.

_u dog-loving unstylish noob, u think u can just appear after AGES n be like ‘oh, yeh, i’ll tell these guys what the hell they shuld do because I’m SO MUCH FUCKING SMARTER THAN THEM’, right? U THINK THAT, BUT U ARE JUST AN OLD FART. U ARE OOOOLD, U SUCK. U SUK SO MUCH. u are stupid, and DAMN ANCIENT and u probably smell like dog, which is, let me tell u, PRETTY FUCKING AWFUL. dogs are stupid. like Mmakkachin, only ur dog is probably an asshole, like u, and u think u can just tell me what to do???????? u??? Aa person that likes jj, of ALLL PEOPLE????????? FCKING JJ!???!??!!?!?!?!? WHAT THE FUCK IS UR PROBLEM?!!!! maybe the reason u cant skate to save ur life is because u have your whole head up ur ass!!!!_

Seung-gil glares down at the screen. He is _not_ going to get into a fight with a sixteen-year-old, no matter how annoying he is. He is _not_ going to pick apart his message.

“If I can’t skate, how come I ended up fourth while you were fifth in the Grand Prix?”

Not too much, at least.

The chat seems to go dead for a moment or two, and then there’s Emil:

_OoooOooOOh, dude. Burn._

Seung-gil lets out a satisfied hum at that. Not so much at Emil’s reaction as at the utter, abashed silence on Yuri’s part for a good ten seconds. Honestly, the kid loves yelling at people as much as JJ loves declaring _anything and everything_ (especially if it belongs to JJ) is just _the best thing ever._ This is certainly an achievement. Finally, Yuri answers with a concise and pathetic:

_i still don’t think he should tell us what to do._

_Well, actually, without him, from what I got, there wouldn’t be an us,_ Emil sends, which erases the satisfaction out of Seung-gil’s face, because it immediately prompts a _right, cause he was crying in the bathroom._

He can almost visualize Yuri’s smug smile while saying that.

_anyway, y did u even decide to talk?_

That just makes Seung-gil hesitate. Should he explain to them what had happened at the club? It does make sense, he supposes. He wanted to talk about it to someone, beforehand, but with _Yuri Plisetsky there_ …

No, he won’t be intimidated by a _teenager._ Seung-gil never allowed for that to happen, even when he himself was that age.

“I went to a club. Saw a guy who-” he hesitates on the word to use, decides to go for the simplest choice “-acted a lot like JJ. He also had a significant other. It frustrated me.”

The replies, he should have expected, are juvenile.

 _Woah, man! I didn’t even know you were that type,_ Emil comments. _No judging, just… I can’t see you in a club! I could have seen you hooking up at a… library? Idk! Somewhere._

_ugghghhghgh, gross!_

And then, finally, Phichit comes out of the shadows: _Yurio, please do not judge people! Everyone copes in different ways._

_i dont ‘cope’, i prefer ‘struggle’_

“Those are synonyms.”

_but coping sounds weak, and u know what i am?_

Before Yuri himself can reply, Emil quickly types: _I know! A soldier!_

Yuri sends a frowning emoticon, and Seung-gil is a bit confused.

Phichit quickly informs him: _Yurio told us that the first time they talked (another story, for another time), Otabek told him he had ‘the eyes of a soldier’. Cute, huh?_

_excuse me, that is ‘the UNFORGETTABLE eyes of a soldier’_

_Yuri pls -_ for once in his life, Seung-gil feels like he agrees with Emil on something, wholeheartedly. Not that he will _tell_ him that. It’s something, considering that Seung-gil had thought him a pretty dumb person. And maybe he still is, but at least he isn’t _that_ dumb.

There is silence for a bit.

_fuck all of u_

Yuri leaves the chat.

 _Oops!_ Phichit writes, and re-adds him. _Yurio, just so you know, we were NOT making fun of you! We wouldn’t do that. It was just a joke. Right, Emil?_

_Of course it was!_

Yuri takes a whole minute to reply: _prove it._

 _How?_ both Phichit and Emil ask.

  


That’s how they end up deciding that chat will only be for really urgent matters, such as communicating sudden ideas and calling for meetings.

‘Meetings’, that’s how they are calling them. Love Council Meetings (Phichit proposed just calling them LCM, for short. Seung-gil refused because it is _ridiculous_ ).

“Welcome-” Phichit announces, waving at his cellphone camera “-to the first ever LCM!”

(Seung-gil was outvoted. Three against one. These guys are dumb.)

“Hi!” Emil says, shaking his hand very excitedly at them. Shaking is definitely the right word. It’s not so much a greeting as a spastic gesture done out of being excited, as far as Seung-gil can tell.

Yuri yawns, probably to act like it wasn’t his own self-consciousness which led them to holding a Skype video chat just a little after midnight. He doesn’t even cover his mouth to stifle the yawn.

“Kids should be in bed by now,” Seung-gil comments, looking casually down at Mongshil, who’s wagging his tail at all the people on the screen.

“Do you ever shut u-?!” Yuri begins, and there is a short, precise banging somewhere around the room.

“Yurochka, go to sleep!” a stern female voice demands.

“I! Am not! Tired!!” Yuri mutters, but whoever that is, Yuri clearly holds her in high regard, because he puts on his earphones and talks much lower.

Phichit smiles softly and Emil grins. However, both of them seem incapable of any sort of maliciousness, so Yuri is only a bit huffy.

“Let me just look through the conversation…” Phichit murmurs, as he apparently scrolls up, with a focused expression. “Oh, right, we were talking about the soldier’s eyes thing and before… before that you were at a club, Seung-gil. I’m very surprised! So, what happened?” He smiles at the camera.

“...” Seung-gil only speaks after some time has passed and they are all looking dumbly at the screen. “I already told you.”

“Oh, so that’s all of it?” Phichit seems almost disappointed.

“That’s lame,” Yuri says.

Emil twists the end of his beard a little. “So, what were you expecting, exactly?”

Seung-gil, once again, feels a bit out of place. Also he is not sure who Emil is asking that to, because it could mean both him, or Phichit and Yuri. Nevertheless, he talks.  “I wasn’t _expecting_ anything, really. I just…” he scoffs “thought it would help me know what it would feel like.”

Yuri frowns a little. “What _what_ would feel like?” Seung-gil and Emil raise their eyebrows at him, while Phichit chuckles. “Wait, you don’t mean- Ew! I did not want to know… why?!”

Another thud. “Yuri.” This time it’s a male voice.

“Shut up, Yakov,” is Yuri’s very creative response. Once again, however, it’s really softly said.

Silence.

“Why’s what?” Seung-gil asks, narrowing his eyes a little bit as he leans forward. Just for a moment. He doesn’t want it to look like he _cares._

Emil, for a second, looks around, then laughs to himself as Yuri visibly reddens. It seems like he is about to speak, but it is Phichit the one who points out: “I think he’s asking about why you want to sleep with someone who’s like JJ?”

Yuri sticks his tongue out in disgust and then nods.

“Because he likes JJ!” Phichit reminds them all, as if that was easy to forget.

“That’s weird enough as it is, but why want to... “ the volume of his voice goes even softer “sleep with him?”

Seung-gil blinks a little. “You are kidding.”

Emil is hiding his face behind his hand.

“I’m not?” So Yuri _means_ his stupid question?

“JJ is-” _hot_ is _not_ the first word that comes to his mind. ‘Great’ is. But ‘hot’ is closer to something acceptable. Still, Seung-gil clearly won’t say that. “- considerably attractive.”

Yuri looks like a kid who not only just got told that Santa is not real, but also that the person he always saw dressed up as Santa is sleeping with both mom _and_ dad. He opens his mouth to, very likely, scream, and then he closes it. “That’s not true. His eyebrows are gross and his chin is kilometric and…. Ugh, no. He’s ugly as hell.”

Phichit shrugs. Seung-gil huffs. Soon he will tell him Otabek looks like a gremlin who just ate sour candy. Let’s see how how Yuri likes that.

“Actually…” Emil drags out, “I agree with Seung-gil.”

Seung-gil is not expecting that. Neither is Yuri. “You do?” they ask almost in unison which is annoying, to say the least.

“Yep.” Emil nodded, then shrugged. “He’s a good-looking dude. Not as good-looking as Mickey, but-”

Seung-gil isn’t even discreet about his derision. “Michele has nothing going on for him except the fact he’s _tan_.”

Emil doesn’t look insulted, but he looks for something on his phone. Soon, there are three images on Seung-gil’s phone. One of Michele in a bathing suit (trunks, thankfully), another of him in a suit, another of him in that armor-like costume. “Italian advertising disagrees with you. He’s been asked to pose for magazines a few times.”

“That’s because he’s famous. The only reason JJ hasn’t been asked that is because he has his own clothing line.” Seung-gil feels almost like he _has_ to defend JJ, which is very new. He doesn’t talk to other people about him. He rarely ever talks to other people at all.

“Oh, that’s cool. But still. Admit it. Mickey is pretty good-looking as well.”

“Sure, if you like narrow shoulders and all that.”

“Ugh,  We already had this conversation, only this idiot wasn’t here for it. I’ll go to the bathroom,” Yuri announces.

A giggle is the only thing that Phichit contributes to the conversation, pressing his hand to his lips.

“I do like that! I think it looks really good.” Emil looks calm for once. “Mickey just looks… really, really good.” He laughs weakly. “It’s really frustrating!”

“Frustrating? You are talking frustrating? JJ has tattoos.” Seung-gil makes a face.

“So you like tattoos, Seung-gil?” Phichit asks, far too amused.

“No.”

“Then?” Emil continues.

“They look unprofessional for a skater. But JJ is just…. He pulls off tattoos.”

Emil scratches his head. “I don’t really get it.”

Seung-gil quickly sends a picture of both of JJ’s arms.

“I hadn’t seen these!” Phichit mutters, sounding almost annoyed. _Finally,_ something other than amusement. “I mean, I had seen the tattoos. Just not these specific pictures.”

“You weren’t meant to. He sent took them for me when I admitted I hadn’t seen them.” Probably because JJ just likes snapping pictures of himself, but it still feels… just the tiniest bit special.

“Those are very good tattoos. Really cool!” Emil notes, luckily not making the same comment as Seung-gil had which was “Why the hell do you have your own name in your arm? And also a maple leaf? The hymn of Canada? What is wrong with you?”

Those are things only Seung-gil can say.

“But they are nothing really special. I think Michele would look as good with some tattoos like these.” Phichit comments. Emil doesn’t look as pleased with the idea as one would think he would. Seung-gil understands. Michele doesn’t have the arms for it.

Seung-gil rolls his eyes. “Nothing special…”

He sends one picture of the lower back tattoo. It’s a picture _someone_ had to take for JJ, because the whole angle just doesn’t make sense for a selfie. Seung-gil tries not to think it was Isabella. It offers a very nice view of JJ’s muscled back, his tan skin, his thighs.

And his ass. That’s worth noting.

Phichit laughs. “I kind of get-”

“Holy fuck! My eyes!” Yuri’s voice is shrill. Nobody saw him return from the bathroom. “What the fuck is your problem?! Why would you ever send something like that?! Are you-?!”

A door opens, and Lilia Baranovskaya appears into frame. “Yuri Plisetsky, go to sleep! Who are you talking to?!”

Before she can see the screen, all of them quickly disconnect from the video chat.

Five minutes later, Yuri sends: _hope u have nightmares, u cowards._ Seung-gil goes to sleep.

  


First thing in the morning, they get ‘summoned’ into another Skype call. Yuri is quick to inform them that, as it turns out, Lilia was appalled to discover the content of their latest messages.

“She said that I had no time to waste on _that_ sort of thing. With this really weird tone. What the hell?!” he says, apparently allowed to be as loud as he wants, now that it’s morning.

“Well, you were trying to be hush-hush, wearing headphones, in the middle of the night,” Phichit summarizes, unnecessarily.

“And you were looking at pictures of butts!” Emil adds with a chuckle.

Yuri still looks terrified at the memory. “Against my will! I sure as hell didn’t want to see that!” He grunts and throws himself back on his hotel bed, his empty suitcase visible in the background.

Phichit and Emil are packing too. The former is neatly folding clothes as he hums a song  Seung-gil doesn’t know. The latter has, supposedly, finished, but Seung-gil is ninety-eight percent sure it will be impossible to close that thing, clothes and souvenirs thrown messily one on top of the other.

“Tsk. I still don’t get it,” Yuri grumbles, sticking his leg out in the air. “Why would you keep that gross picture?”

Seung-gil rolls his eyes. “It’s not gross to me.”

“Weirdo,” Yuri continues. “But I don’t mean that, I mean… ugh, no, it sounds stupid.”

Phichit folds yet another hoodie and looked at the screen. “Come on, Yurio, you can tell us.”

“I just mean, when I see pictures of Beka -and if you mock the nickname, I will kill you, you hypocrite-” Yuri says, probably to Seung-gil. Fair enough. “- well, it sort of… hurts.”

“You still have pics of him on your phone,” Emil points out.

“Yeah, but that’s because…” Yuri huffs.

Phichit chuckles a little. “You miss him otherwise.”

“No! Shit, no. I’m not a sap like that. It’s not that I miss him. It’s just that I wish he was here! And he takes so few pictures, it’s just like… gotta take what I can get.” A beat. Yuri throws his hands up. “Urgh, whatever. Some shit.”

Seung-gil squints a little. “I don’t see how it’s different.”

“It’s really different,” Yuri scoffs.

“Kinda.” Emil shrugs.

Phichit stares at the screen for a little. “Yup. Pretty different.”

“Why?” Seung-gil asks, not convinced, since they are not presenting actual arguments.

“Because, well…” Phichit begins, with that mirthful laughter of his that makes it seem like everything is, somehow, endearing to him. Seung-gil detests it. His confusion is not endearing, it is annoying.

“JJ takes pictures all the time.” Emil explains, probably because Yuri would have judged a lot more.

Seung-gil sighs a bit, making a face. What part of ‘he took these pictures especially for me’ didn’t they understand? Plus, there was the not-so-tiny fact that-

“But Seung-gil can’t just look in Instagram!” Phichit explains, as if he could read into what others were thinking. Once again, Seung-gil confirms his assessment that Phichit is a lot smarter than he looks like.

“Huh?!” That’s obviously Yuri, which is expected, because he has always been a self-centered little punk who cannot try to understand others. Seung-gil would respect that way of being if it wasn’t so exasperating.

It’s a bit surprising that Emil also asks “Why?”, because Seung-gil was beginning to think he wasn’t completely moronic.

“One of you should open JJ’s Instagram,” Phichit suggests in a tone that seems soft but is also very compelling.

“Can’t.” Yuri replies immediately. “I have him blocked.”

Seung-gil rolls his eyes. That’s a pretty petty move, but then again, Yuri seems a petty person. “Emil, then.”

Emil then grabs his phone, nodding, and begins to scroll. “Oh,” he says, after a few moments of looking at the pictures.

“What is it?” Yuri asks, impatient.

Regretting his decision to be in the same conversation as this kid, Seung-gil huffs and grimaces. “Isabella.”

He barely ever says the name. Hardly ever thinks of it, too. He tries to avoid it, he tries to think of something that is not that, not her. He’s never had beliefs that were not based on facts, but sometimes it feels like if he ignores her existence enough, she will just disappear. He wishes it were that easy.

Yuri pauses. “Figures that douche would flaunt her, right?”

Seung-gil is torn. A part of him is _infuriated_ at JJ for daring to be so proud of his relationship and therefore agrees. But the other side of him can’t help but feel the need to defend JJ from others thinking ill of him. He knows so many things about JJ that other people don’t, that it just feels wrong to have him be misunderstood. But then again, JJ _is_ an idiot who cannot communicate properly, and who refuses to hear why he’s in the wrong most of the times. JJ may deserve it.

After all, he is also an oblivious idiot who dares be engaged.

JJ _definitely_ deserves it.

“Anyway, that’s why I keep pictures selected and saved.”

Yuri appears as if he is thinking about something hard. And after a while, he declares: “You should delete them.”

Seung-gil frowns deeply. “Delete them?”

“Yes.”

“Yurio has a point,” Phichit says, before going back to humming.

“No he doesn’t. I will not delete them,” Seung-gil begins, and he is full of shame before admitting: “They are what I have.”

Silence.

“Wow, you are _sad._ And creepy,” Yuri shakes his head.

“Shut up.” Seung-gil snaps back. “You don’t understa-”

Yuri interrupts him: “I do. I’m not an idiot. You just want to think that, because I’m right.”

  
Seung-gil taps his fingers on the keyboard. “Don’t talk over me, _kid._ ”

Yuri ignores him. “You should get rid of those pictures. You are just frustrating yourself, for some reason. And please, let’s leave it at that. I _don’t_ want details on how you frustrate yourself.”

Emil chuckles a little and both Yuri and Seung-gil glare at his part of the screen.

“You like him, and you keep dwelling on that. But guess what, idiot?” Yuri continues. Seung-gil purses his lips. “You say that’s what you have? Newsflash! He has a fiancée and you have nothing.”

Seung-gil is enraged, and his breathing turns shallow as the words strike him. How does he dare say something like that? Does he think he know anything? He doesn’t. He doesn’t at all. Hell, Yuri doesn’t seem to know the word ‘love’. Or at least he doesn’t have the maturity to say it. None of them do. This was a mistake.

“Look, _Yu-_ ”

Phichit starts speaking before Seung-gil can finish. “That’s not fair, Yurio,” he replies, “he has friendship. If they had nothing in common other than attraction, it would be easier to walk away, right?” He seems to wait for an answer and sighs when he gets none. “Oh, I thought you’d get it.”

“Why would I get it?”

There is something off with Phichit’s expression, but Seung-gil can’t quite put his finger on it. “Because you, too, are just a friend to Otabek.”

Yuri opens his mouth to protest, but it’s clear he can’t.

Emil shrugs. “Wasn’t that the point of this, anyway? It’s not like any of our crushes are going anywhere. Mickey would probably kill me if I said something.” There’s fondness in his voice, still. Seung-gil can’t help thinking that Emil is probably stepped on far too much. But that’s not Seung-gil’s problem, so he won’t comment on it.

Yuri keeps quiet for a bit. “Or stop talking to you.”

There’s a grim silence, before Celestino Cialdini’s voice is heard. “Phichit, have you finished packing?”

Phichit looks down at his clothes and then cheerfully announces: “Nope!”

There’s a deep sigh. “What are you doing instead?”

“Chatting!”

“Is it Yuuri again?”

Phichit chuckles. “No, of course not, Ciao Ciao. He’s busy, probably. You know, Christmas is pretty close, and with that-”

“Yes, his husband’s birthday. I know, I know.” Cialdini sounds relaxed enough, like they’ve had this conversation multiple times. “Just… hurry up packing.”

“Okay!” Phichit grins a little and then turns to the camera. “So, I have to go! You can keep talking if you want.”

Yuri looks at his empty suitcase and seems almost worried at a point. “Actually, I gotta go too.” He disconnects.

“Rude!” Phichit jokes, before waving at the screen. “Talk to you when I’m back in Bangkok, we’ll coordinate times later. Bye!”

“Bye!” Emil says. Seung-gil just nods.“So, it seems it’s just u-” Emil continues.

“Pack your things properly.” Seung-gil disconnects.

  


He’s still a bit angry, but he breathes in and out for a few moment. He calms down. And then, much too suddenly, there’s silence.

Mongshil is sleeping, still. He’s not an old dog, barely four years old. But he is pretty sedentary. Probably because he is not used to having a lot of people around, except when it is time to go for a walk. When it comes to being practical, Seung-gil would be better off with a cat. It’s just that he doesn’t like them. Also, fresh air is something Seung-gil needs every once in a while, too. The biting cold of the rink and the sometimes suffocating air within his apartment are all confining. In days like this, especially, he needs to be reminded that sometimes he can just go out, hear the chaos of the city and remember why he doesn’t like people all that much, while in company of his best friend.

Even if he is a best friend who cannot do anything about the fact he is in love with JJ.

To be fair, however, Phichit and the rest seem like they can’t do anything either, which is making Seung-gil question whether he should really continue talking to them.

He just doesn’t really like talking to a lot of people when it’s not necessary. They are exhausting, and far too noisy.

But it’s quiet in Seung-gil’s apartment now, and for some reason he wishes he could hear JJ being noisy, without the static and interference of a video call. He wishes he would touch Seung-gil.

Then again, it’s not like he would be touched as he wants to be.

Seung-gil groans and stands up, going to make himself some breakfast. It’s late. 10.43 AM. But soon he will return to his routine. The Grand Prix’s results may have been a disappointment, but there is still Four Continents, the Olympic and World’s to go. He needs to refine his program.

In fact, he decides, he will go to the rink right after walking Mongshil. Which will happen as soon as the dog in question wakes up.

A protein shake is his go-to option for breakfast. Better for maintaining his weight. JJ has asked him why he doesn’t just go to the gym.

“We’ve talked about this,” Seung-gil always replies. “I don’t have the time.”

One time, when he was somewhat frustrated, though, he went with “You don’t have a pet. You wouldn’t know how demanding it is to take care of one properly. I can’t just walk Mongshil.”

“Oh, I know!” JJ replied. “You have to be there for him as much as he is there for you.”

JJ had the indecency to _wink_ at the camera.

“I got it right, didn’t I?” he continued, to which Seung-gil said nothing. JJ wasn’t _wrong,_ but Seung-gil could never say something so sentimental.

Instead, he changed the topic.

“Why don’t you have a pet, anyway?” Seung-gil asked, with his arms crossed over his chest. “You like dogs, don’t you?”

“I love all animals!” JJ announced, then.

That was not an answer. “But…?”

“But what?”

“But something. You don’t have a pet.”

“Oh, well, it’s because you are right.” Seung-gil raised his eyebrows. It was not often that JJ admitted anyone but JJ was right. “It is a demanding thing. And with all the other family going out for competitions, they would just be left alone too long.”

“Get yourself a dogsitter.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Yes.” Not exactly true, but not a complete lie.

JJ thought it over for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess I would just miss them too much when I’m away.”

Seung-gil remained silent, but after a moment he decided if he didn’t say anything it would just bother him. “You think I don’t miss Mongshil?”

“Uh?” JJ frowned softly, possibly out of confusion. Hopefully out of anger at realizing what he had just said. “Ah! No, I’m not saying that!”

Seung-gil narrowed his eyes at him. “Then?”

“I just feel like you are a pretty cool guy. And I mean that, not as in… No, well. I mean, I don’t mean it in a bad way!” JJ scratched the back of his head. “I mean you are so serious. And restrained!”

“And you are not.”

JJ simply shrugged. “Which is alright. But then again you don’t let feelings get to you… most of the time.”

“And you would?”

“Hell yeah!” The fact that JJ did not deny that was unsurprising. Seung-gil knew he still got emotional at Disney movies -especially _The Princess and the Frog-,_ and when he heard stories from the people he volunteered to help. JJ had called enough times to tell stories about them. And sometimes his voice shook when he did so.

  
Seung-gil had never wanted to protect any person but himself before that happened for the first time.

JJ had kept on talking about something to do with feelings, but Seung-gil had drifted off slightly. So the conversation halted and then they changed topics to something else. Probably skating.

The point still stands, and it’s one of the few moments in which Seung-gil agrees with JJ’s decision. Just like Seung-gil, whose priorities stop him from exercising more than strictly necessary, JJ just does too much. So yes, perhaps a pet isn’t the best idea. Seung-gil also had some trouble initially, and he was just studying in the university and training when he got Mongshil. Unlike JJ, who also writes songs, designs and works out more.

And keeps a steady girlfriend.

But, anyway, without Mongshil, it wouldn’t have been the same. Without Mongshil, college life would have been pretty annoying, considering the fact that he was: younger than the rest by a year or more, an international skater (so a little bit famous, at the very least), not only not a vegetarian or vegan, but an unashamed hater of vegetables.

The latter would not have been a problem, normally, but it was. He simply couldn’t stand the food at the places his classmates went to. They, in turn, couldn’t handle his ‘carnivorous ways’. That led to indifference and, soon, to a certain animosity. It was okay, but it meant Seung-gil never was added to groups willingly. He’d had to do work for four alone, but mostly, sometimes he just needed a little company. Just enough to remind himself of the fact he was, in fact, a person.

And that was when he’d adopted Mongshil. His parents had been indifferent, while Min-so had been firmly against it. But he did it anyway because he had known he needed it. Mongshil was a year old when Seung-gil got him, not young or small enough for kids to find him cute and want him. But he was a well-trained dog who knew when Seung-gil was anxious and comforted him to the best of his abilities.

That was enough.

Seung-gil finishes his protein shake and then showers. When he comes out, already dressed, Mongshil is waiting for him while wagging his tail.

“Hello boy,” Seung-gil smiles softly and pets his head. “We’ll go out in a second.”

Mongshil’s tail moves even faster and Seung-gil lets out a snort.

The walk is not peaceful. Mongshil is especially restless, and they reach the park too quickly. He is clearly excited to have Seung-gil back, and obviously worried he has forgotten about Mongshil’s favorite tree, where one can see a family of chipmunks in the warmer seasons. Seung-gil pats the trunk.

“Yes, I know, buddy.”

Mongshil seems content. They walk through the park for a while, only stopping when Mongshil needs to do his business. Seung-gil cleans up, uses hand sanitizer, and they continue walking.

Seung-gil’s phone vibrates. JJ.

_lol sorry, just saw you got home. evrything alright?_

He answers with a simple “Yes.” After all, he is annoyed at JJ. Maybe unfairly, but he is.

JJ probably doesn’t realize that, because he answers with _great!!!!_

They go back home. Seung-gil feeds Mongshil and leaves for the rink where he trains without a problem, and only a few two or three people recognizing him.

He receives no further messages from JJ or from the Love Counseling group. The former is probably training in Nagoya, the latter are very likely travelling.

When he returns home, it’s quiet again.

But it gives him time to think. So far, his decisions regarding JJ have been mostly done because of instinct, because of need, because of Seung-gil’s terrible but undeniable emotionality. He needs to think this over. Should he abandon the Love Counselling group?

Of course he should. Even the name is juvenile. And the only person out of the three others that seems slightly trustworthy is Emil Nekola. When a person who bungee jumps for fun is the one who seems the most calm, things are _wrong._

Seung-gil moves to delete the group and to block Phichit and the rest.

But then again, one has to be practical. Unless something happens to the others and they don’t compete anymore, Seung-gil is bound to see them again. That is very unlikely, bordering on impossible.

Another option is to stop competing himself, but that is laughable. It means throwing years of training away, and what for? A bunch of annoying people (JJ included).

He refuses to be intimidated.  No. It’s just like when he decided not to block Sara Crispino, JJ or Jong-su. They have been different experiences, some of which he regrets. But he refuses to let feelings control him.

And it’s so overbearingly quiet...

He puts his phone away, without having done anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that I'm going to put extra info in here for all chapters. 
> 
> So, here you have the piece of CuBo trivia of the day: 
> 
> Seung-gil studied Energy Resources Engineering in Seoul, finishing at 20, then moved to Gangneung with Mongshil.
> 
> I like to think he started university early.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Problems on the Love Counseling group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who helped me with this chapter.
> 
> Also, here's to tell you that I edited some lines out of ch.2 because on a re-read I found them kind of cringe-y. Nothing too important. I'm sorry!
> 
>  **I forgot to say:** If Seung-gil seems like more of an ass in this chap, it's because he is acting like it. I love him, I really do, but guy's gotta have his flaws, right?

Having made up his mind about the whole thing doesn’t make him more appreciative of it. After all, Seung-gil cannot distance himself from the bitter feeling that comes from waking up each day and finding new, if few, messages on the app. It is a constant acknowledgment of the fact his love is not returned. 

There’s also the fact he’s the only one foolish enough to fall in love. Both Emil and Yuri, though especially the latter, are too immature to feel more deeply than ‘liking’. Rather than becoming more understanding towards it with time, it turns jarring: Emil _likes_ Michele because he is, in his words, protective and funny; Yuri _likes_ Otabek because he is ‘so fucking cool’. 

They seem so happy to say it. They seem so very happy to swoon and sigh over a man. Seung-gil doesn’t understand it. Maybe crushes feel good, but being in love certainly doesn’t. 

Sure, there are these moments, in which Yuri is jealous. 

“Mila always talks to me about how hot Otabek is. It’s so annoying,” Yuri whined once, for example. Seung-gil scoffed. “Got something to say, asshole?” 

“Well, you could very well tell her what you feel and ask her to stop, right? It’s not like she’s _engaged to him_ , or even dating him.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes, a clear sign that he wouldn’t do that. Teenagers, always making more of a deal out of things than it was necessary. 

“Anyway, JJ is back in Montreal. And he sent me this picture of floral arrangements for the wedding. What am I supposed to say?” 

“Like hell if I care,” Yuri muttered. 

“Isn’t this the purpose of this chat?” 

“No, I’m telling you to tell that jackass that.” 

Taking matters very seriously. 

There are also these strange moments when Emil acts melancholic. 

“He treats Sara so much better than me.” 

“She’s his _sister._ And he has always felt the need to defend her. Of course he treats her better.” At least Michele had obviously never been in a relationship in his life. And really, people should be thankful for that. From what Sara had told him, Michele _still_ had dependency problems. 

“At least,” he said after a while, “Michele doesn’t have a fiancée.”   

Phichit, who always seemed to be lurking, pressed his hands to his lips and let out a soft “hmm,” but he said nothing. 

Helpful as always. 

But the fact remains that they are unaffected by their supposed feelings most of the time. Seung-gil wishes it was this easy for himself. 

 

Days go by, in fact a week does. It’s 10.30 PM in Korea. Seung-gil is the last one to connect to the LCM, already having walked Mongshil and gotten ready to go to bed, a book on his nightstand. 

“Seung-gil is here,” Emil announces, as if it isn’t obvious enough. 

“About time,” Yuri replies, despite the fact this is the exact time they had decided to connect. Seung-gil prefers not to say anything about that. 

“Hi, Seung-gil! How are you doing?” Phichit says, bright as usual. 

“I’m okay,” JJ has been relatively quiet lately. The only things he has sent are pictures of things for the wedding, which Seung-gil has promptly replied to with a simple “Good”. It’s nothing worth mentioning, after the first three times. It just feels the tiniest bit off. 

“Hey, so it’s going to be Christmas soon, what are you guys doing?” Emil asks. 

“Probably training,” Phichit lets out a groan. Nothing too pained, it’s almost playful. “I miss having the day off during Christmas! Yuuri and I used to celebrate it big time.” 

“Ugh, don’t mention Katsudon. He’s throwing this huge party for both Christmas and Viktor’s birthday. I had to spend a lot of money on their gifts!” Yuri complains. Seung-gil would like to point out that technically he has no reason to buy them anything, but if the kid wants to be stupid with his money, then whatever. “I thought Japanese people didn’t celebrate Christmas! At least not like Americans do!” 

Phichit laughs softly. “Remember he spent a long time in Detroit!” 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Guess so. It’s kind of easy to forget.” 

Phichit, in turn, chuckles a bit more and then asks “How about you, Seung-gil. Christmas is a holiday there, right? So what-?” 

“I don’t like Christmas,” Seung-gil replies, softly petting Mongshil’s fur. “It’s too cheesy and wasteful.” Back in the day, he used to love it. But as time went by and he realized his parents were not giving him the dog he wanted, it had become less of a perpetual disappointment and more of another way to have some extra money. Nowadays, it isn’t even that. “The rink is closed and there are too many lights on.” 

Also, there are a ton of new pictures on Instagram of people and their loved ones. 

Seung-gil bites his lip, and pets Mongshil a bit more. 

Nobody says anything for a while, and he wonders whether they know what he’s thinking. Phichit, at the very least, does. When did Seung-gil become this predictable? 

“What about you, Emil?” Phichit is, predictably enough, the first to talk. 

“Ah! I love Christmas! Though I hate fasting.” 

“...What?” says Yuri, which Seung-gil has to agree with. 

“Ah! Right! Here we have this tradition where you have to fast until dinner and if you do, you see the golden pig!” 

“The what?!” Yuri seems incredibly confused, and, frankly, a bit offended. 

Emil laughs. “I don’t get it either! But my cousins’ children insist on making us do that, and so most of the time the adults end up sneaking food out. But I usually take care of the kids with my brother so…” He shrugs. 

“Uhm… okay,” Seung-gil mutters, trying not to look as bewildered as he feels. 

Phichit seems entertained by the conversation, but Seung-gil is pretty sure Phichit just has a weird and unnatural fascination with human beings and that whatever they do, he will find it amusing. 

“So, Yurio, are you going to spend the day with Yuuri and Viktor?” 

Yuri makes a disgusted face. “Yeah. It sucks, but if I don’t go, Viktor may cry again.” 

“Let him,” Seung-gil offers, but after Yuri glares at the camera, they ignore his comment. 

“So, yeah, I will spend the day with them. Why?” 

“Just wanted to know. Tell them hi,” Phichit raises his hand in a greeting, as if Yuri will copy that gesture. “Oh, also, tell Yuuri his gift is on the way.” 

“Ugh, no way! They’ll ask why I’ve been talking to you and like hell I will explain it to them.” 

“Mhm, fair.” 

Seung-gil scoffs. “Are we really going to talk about this? I could be reading instead of listening to you chatting on about Christmas.” 

“What’s your problem, asshole?” Yuri’s voice has been relatively soft up until this moment. 

Seung-gil rolls his eyes. “Unfortunately, you know what my problem is. I am-” he talks more quietly, as if someone would hear him. “I have feelings for JJ.” 

“Which is disgusting, by the way. But who cares?! That has nothing to do with this!” 

“Go to hell, Plisetsky. That’s exactly my point,” Seung-gil replies, almost immediately, his tone less smug than he had wanted it to be. In fact, it sounds affected. Angry. “Also, you think you can judge me? At least JJ has something going on for him!” 

“JJ is an asshole. Also, Beka has a lot going on for him, like-” 

“I don’t care. JJ is not an asshole. He’s just-….” 

“Stupid,” Yuri says. It’s exactly what Seung-gil has been thinking of, but he refuses to accept it now. 

“Shut up.” 

“Hey,” Emil speaks up, since Phichit seems to be frozen, unable to say anything. “Chill.” 

Seung-gil groans a bit. If a teenager (nineteen is still one) is trying to stop him from getting into a verbal fight with _another_ teenager, it means he has stooped very low. 

But he has to be rational. “Yeah, okay. I’m tired or something.” He neglects mentioning that he wasn’t tired before the conversation. 

“Coward,” Yuri mutters, but Seung-gil acts as if he didn’t hear. 

“I actually have to go back to the rink,” Emil announces, then. “Sorry I couldn’t stay longer.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I have to get dinner.” Phichit answers, laughing nervously. Still, none of them disconnect right away, probably because they are waiting to see whether Yuri and Seung-gil will go back to fighting. They would _probably_ try to stop them. 

Seung-gil decides, since he is the second oldest and the most mature, to act like it. “Night.” He hangs up. 

Then he tries to read his book, but he is still annoyed. Who does Yuri think he is? Sure, he is exceptionally talented, but so are most people who have ever gotten to the Grand Prix Final. 

It’s just bothersome to hear Yuri say all those things when Seung-gil knows that JJ, for some strange reason, is dying to become friends with him. 

“Why does he hate me?” 

“How would I know, JJ?” 

“I just really want to have friends.” His voice was soft as he confessed that.  JJ raised his head from the table and brought the glass to his lips. Some of the soju he was drinking spilled from the corner of his mouth. 

It was plain to see to everyone at the banquet, that after getting a mere bronze in Four Continents, JJ was drunk. Served him right for spending the first day celebrating Valentine’s with Isabella around Gangneung instead of training or resting. 

Meanwhile, Seung-gil was perfectly sober, but  that was understandable, given that he had gotten silver and a lot less to drink. 

Seung-gil scoffed. “You have friends. What about me?” 

Okay, maybe not _perfectly_ sober. But less wasted than JJ was. 

“I want to have… I want to have _more_ friends. Like, all of the friends, y’know?” He let out a sigh. “Am I not friendly?” 

“You are overly friendly.” 

JJ let out a giggle. “Yeah.”  “No, you don’t get it. That’s not good,” Seung-gil affirmed, drinking again. 

JJ -damn him- looked up with a small pout. Not one of his exaggerated gestures, but a sincere, hurt pout. “Why?” 

“Uh?” It took a second for Seung-gil’s brain to react to the situation. He just stared awkwardly for a moment. “Oh, yeah. It makes you look too eager.” 

“Well, I am!” JJ said, without a hint of shame. “I should have more friends. I am a nice guy!” 

“No, you are a narcissist.” 

JJ sat up, frowning slightly. “‘M not!” 

“Lies,” Seung-gil muttered, a soft smile on his face. 

JJ had glared at him for a moment before chuckling, lowering his head in defeat. “I’m a fake, you know that?” 

“No, I have no idea what you mean,” Seung-gil admitted far too quickly, which would have been embarrassing in any other circumstance. 

JJ ran his finger over the rim of the glass, over and over, with an amount of dexterity that should not have been present in someone so drunk. Seung-gil observed JJ’s hands. They were nice hands. Strong, clearly manicured, but also manly, if that was possible. 

“I mean that I’m not as confident as I act. Not by a long shot.” 

“Oh,” Seung-gil said. He had kind of begun figuring that one out when JJ had failed his jumps in Barcelona. 

“I just… like… I need to talk about me.” Silence, as JJ’s hand fell inside his glass. Unthinking, he licked his fingers clean. Seung-gil held his breath for a moment, as JJ sucked on the tip of his own finger. JJ, of course, noticed nothing. “Ugh, that sounded terrible. It sounds like I only like talking about myself.” 

“And you don’t?” Seung-gil asked, once he had snapped out of it. 

“No. I like hearing about other people. It’s just… I try to relate to them by talking of myself. It’s not that I’m self-centered. I just don’t know how to talk about anyone else.” 

Seung-gil scoffed. “To be honest, that sounds just like you are selfish.” 

“Nooo!” JJ said, reaching for Seung-gil’s shoulder. “I just… Just help me out, okay?” 

Seung-gil was staring at the hand on his shoulder, but forced himself to look back towards JJ. “Okay.” 

JJ let out a small laugh. Soft. “Tell me about yourself. I feel we don’t talk about you enough.” His face was flushed because of the drink. JJ looked… mild. 

“There’s not a lot to say,” Seung-gil replied, eyes downcast towards his own drink. 

“I bet there’s a lot to say. Like… talk to me about Sara.” 

“Sara? Who? Oh, wait, Crispino?” JJ nodded. “What about her?” 

“You have her number. You two…?” JJ took his hand away from Seung-gil’s shoulder to intertwine his right hand fingers with those of the left one. 

“No.” Seung-gil said immediately, almost horrified by the thought. “I mean, I once thought she….” He gestured vaguely in return. “But I wouldn’t. I don’t….” Silence, JJ seemed confused. “I’m gay.” 

JJ raised his eyebrows. 

“So... Yeah. I’ve never… I don’t… women....” He pursed his lips, not sure what even he was trying to communicate. Something the like of which he had never expressed before. 

“I don’t get what you just said, but it’s alright.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“I mean I’m not judging you.” JJ was looking into his eyes, extreme sincerity showing. It made Seung-gil feel… squirmish. 

“Good. Because you certainly would be losing friends if you did.” 

“Well, I’m not.” 

They remained in silence for a few moments. Seung-gil’s eyes fixed on the alcohol still spilled over by the corner of JJ’s mouth. He wondered whether he should do something about it. It _was_ bothering him, after all. So he should. He moved his hand towards him. 

“JJ, there you are!” Seung-gil stopped, as Isabella’s voice reached his ears. “Seriously! I go to the bathroom and you disappear!” 

JJ looked at her with a loving smile. “Sorry, _ma belle_!” He stood up clumsily and then waved at Seung-gil, who felt as if he had just been caught doing something wrong. “See you later.” 

“JJ, at least clean yourself up!” Isabella said, fondly, as she reached to wipe the alcohol away. 

Seung-gil just watched them go. Next day he had received a call from a still surprisingly loud and non-hungover JJ. 

And he hadn’t actually seen him for a month. 

 

Seung-gil lies on his bed for a while, unmoving, as the anger subsides, as the frustration from the memory dies. 

Sometimes he thinks  that, after this long having feelings for JJ, he should already had gotten used to it all: the strangeness of that protective instinct when people treat his friend badly, and also the envy that burns at the pit of his stomach when he sees Isabella hanging from JJ’s arm. 

But it’s not over yet. It’s never over. 

The memory that his unrequited love exists is like a wave. It goes at times, then comes back and hits him hard, almost making him lose balance. 

At times it feels unreal, but then, it also makes too much sense when he remembers it. It seems like his whole life has been invaded by it. That every bitter cup of coffee in the morning is “he does not feel the same”, that every rush of air says “I love Isabella” in JJ’s voice. 

It feels as if every song he skates to, now, he is skating with JJ in mind. 

This is the first season, however, in which he has decided to own up to his feelings by naming the theme after them. 

_ Denial,  _ ironically enough. 

“Come again?” Min-so asked, frowning a bit. 

“Denial,” he repeated, as he put on his skates. 

She narrowed her eyes. Seung-gil could tell it was strange to go from “greed” and “honor”, which were frankly vague and detached, to this. 

But she didn’t ask about it and Seung-gil didn’t explain. 

“Do you have any ideas?” She asked. 

“A tango I found. It has lyrics, but I need an instrumental version.” Although he knew vaguely what it said, he refused to let the rest of the world find out so easily. Especially Leo de la Iglesia, that meddling bother. 

She sighed, but she had never been one to reject his ideas. She was more about taking them and polishing them. “Okay. Short program or free skate?” 

“Free skate.” 

“Any ideas for the short program?” 

“Not yet. You?” He walked towards the rink. 

“I will think about it.” 

He is still relieved that Min-so never insisted he expand on him choosing this topic. No _what does denial mean to you? Why choose it?_

It’s not important, right? As long as he skates well, why should people care what he feels? 

And why would they? 

Right. 

Seung-gil takes his phone out and writes a message to JJ. For a long time, he considers sending it. 

“I miss you,” it says. And he does. But he deletes it after moments of frowning at the screen. Just like everything, it’s not worth mentioning. 

He goes to sleep, the feeling at the pit of his stomach only disappearing after a long while, following him into another dreamless night. 

 

He wakes up because of his cellphone ringing. He tries to ignore it, since he is almost sure he doesn’t have to actually wake up just yet. However, Mongshil starts barking at the phone. Still half asleep, Seung-gil gets the damned thing from his nightstand and takes the call. 

“Seung-gil?” 

“Hm?” He answers, his eyes closed again. If the voice talking to him were an image, it would be blurry beyond recognition. 

“Are you there?” 

He replies “yeah,” but then the person asks the question again. So maybe Seung-gil only said it in his head. 

“Hello??!” 

Seung-gil decides he is not in the condition to talk to anyone, so he hangs up and tries enjoying the few minutes left he has to sleep. 

Then the phone rings again. He rejects the call. He would turn off the phone if it weren’t for the fact it’s also his alarm clock. 

It rings again. 

Seung-gil slowly sits up, sighing, and finally fully opens his eyes. He sees the name of the caller. 

Of course it’s JJ. Mongshil happily sits by Seung-gil’s side, listening and waiting to be pet. 

He picks up, begrudgingly. It’s a bit past 6 AM. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Seung-gil grumbles. 

“Oh, there you are!” JJ sounds full of energy. 

“Why are you calling me at this hour? It’s too early.” He still had about half an hour to sleep. 

To his surprise, JJ sounds almost offended at he talks. “What? Don’t tell me you forgot?!” Seung-gil doesn’t reply, because he is trying to make sense of that. “You did!” 

Seung-gil sighs and rubs his eyes. “What if I did?” But he’s trying to remember. 

JJ stays silent for a moment and then huffs. “And to think that I was worried! I tried calling you on Skype and you weren’t connected.” 

Seung-gil is glad they are not on Skype. Whenever he hears that JJ was worried, he cannot help feel warm. And guilty, but mostly warm. 

Then he realizes- 

“This is an international call.” 

“Yes?” 

Seung-gil growls. “I’ll connect on Skype in a second.” 

He does, after hanging up. 

JJ appears on his screen, still in training clothes. “What was that about?!” It’s plain to see he is a bit irritated, but as long as he has energy, Seung-gil is not too worried. 

“JJ, most people don’t waste money like that if they can avoid it.” 

“I couldn’t avoid it! I had to talk to you!” 

_ Had  _ to talk to you. Seung-gil freezes for a moment. That could mean so much. Wonderful things. Terrible things, as well. 

He doesn’t let himself get too carried away and just raises his eyebrows. “Okay?” 

“So this really cool band is going to play in the wedding.” 

As expected, it is, instead, completely stupid. 

“And that’s why you called me at 6 in the morning?” Seung-gil asks, not hiding the fact he is upset. 

“Well, it is Wednesday there and we talk on Wednesdays, right?” 

Seung-gil struggles to remember. “You are not… wrong.” Silence. “Fine, I forgot.” 

JJ frowns a little, but right when Seung-gil thinks he might actually be mad, he laughs. “Man, you are really sleepy, aren’t you? What time did you go to sleep yesterday?” 

“You sound like Min-so.” 

“What time?” JJ insisted. 

“No further than eleven,” he gets a disbelieving look. “I just… guess I didn’t sleep that well.” 

“Oh, is something troubling you?” 

_ Yes. You.  _ “No, I guess it was just one of those nights.” He sounded unconvincing. 

Yuri Plisetsky being an idiot hadn’t helped make it better. 

Any other person would have pressed Seung-gil a little more. But JJ doesn’t. Because he is trusting. Because JJ himself is open and sincere. Despite everything showing that Seung-gil isn’t like that, JJ still believes him. 

Seung-gil has considered a few times how easy it would be to hurt JJ’s feelings. It’s not a good thought. 

The silence that reigns in the conversation is not long-lived. “So, anything else to tell me? Other than the… band thing?” Seung-gil finally asks, now awake enough to put effort into the conversation. 

“Not really. I’ve texted you all the other things.” 

“I mean, something not… wedding related,” he tries to sound as neutral as possible even though he feels he is about to choke on the words. 

JJ thinks about it for a while. “No. Just training, training and more training, you know,” he laughs a little. “How about you? How are you?” 

The recurrent lie slips through his lips: “I’m okay. And, you know, just busy with training too.” Seung-gil shrugs. 

“Well, that’s good! Have you been eating well?” 

“Of course I have.” 

JJ narrows his eyes. “You sure?” 

“... Yes?” 

“When is the last time you ate lettuce or something similar?” 

Seung-gil stops for a second, then scoffs. “I’m going to hang up now.” 

“Seung-gil! Come on, you know you have to-!” 

He actually hangs up, because what use is his word if he’s not going to through with it? But when JJ calls immediately after, he answers. 

“So, you haven’t been eating well, huh?” 

“Shut up, JJ. I’ve been taking vitamins and all that, just not eating gross things.” 

“You know the real thing is better than that, don’t you? Also, I’ve heard kimchi is good!” 

Seung-gil scoffs. He is plenty sure that he knows more about this sort of thing than JJ does. “Actually, supplements are better, if you know how to take them. And if you ever mention kimchi to me again, I will stop talking to you. The only thing kimchi has going on for it is the seasoning. And you know what seasoning tastes better on? Something that’s not disgusting. Like beef, or literally anything else that’s edible.” 

“Now you are making it sound like you’d put seasoning on candy,” JJ laughs. But if it is to prove the point of how much he detests vegetables, Seung-gil would do that. JJ probably knows this. “How about the cost-effectiveness of it and all that?” 

Seung-gil doesn’t even reply to that. If he cannot avoid something that grosses him out, then what even is the point, right? “I deal with it, JJ.” 

“Fine, fine. If you say so. Just be careful, okay?” 

Seung-gil gets the impression that is close to the end of the call. Despite everything, he cannot help feel a bit affected by the fact their conversations have become so sparse and brief lately. Mainly due to the wedding. On the other hand, he is glad that is the case. Otherwise, a dozen awkward questions could have been raised concerning the Grand Prix Final. 

Altogether, this is for the best. Maybe their friendship will have to die along with the feelings, Seung-gil thinks. He decides not to dwell on that. He’s been doing that too much lately. 

“I’ve got to go train. Talk to you another day,” he announces, wanting to take control of the situation. 

“Uh? Already?” JJ sighs a little and then smiles at the camera. “Okay, fair enough. Take care.” 

Seung-gil ends the call again. “You too,” he says, once JJ cannot listen anymore. 

 

More days go by. Nothing noteworthy happens. No important texts, no LCM, no feelings. The wave is ebbing. The more days pass, the more worried Seung-gil grows, because he knows that it’s going to hit him very hard next time. It’s been getting worse. 

But the funny thing is, when it does, it’s not from something terrible, like another post from JJ announcing to the world how much he loves Isabella. 

It’s from his doorbell ringing and Seung-gil being handed a package he was not expecting. 

“From: Jean-Jacques Leroy,” it says. 

Seung-gil is, altogether, confused. He has not asked JJ to send him anything this time. 

But, there it is. He opens the package and finds three things: a book he’d once mentioned he wanted, a husky keychain and a letter. 

_ Hi, Seung-gil!  _

_ Guess this is really strange for you, considering how you are and all that. I mean, you probably even forgot it was Christmas.  _

That was almost true. He had been upset over the stores being closed, but other than than, it hadn’t affected him greatly. 

_ I would have written you a message, but I didn’t know when you were going to get this, and I didn’t want to spoil the surprise!!  _

_ Anyway, I know you’ve been busy lately. And I’ve been super busy too!! But, anyway, I saw these and thought of you. I mean, at first I was just going to send you the book, but I saw the keychain and it reminded me of Mongshil, and then I thought about how you get lonely (even though you say you don’t!) and miss him and just thought maybe you could feel closer to him with this! I know it’s not the same as having your real dog (and best friend!) with you, but hey! Might as well have something, right?  _

Seung-gil let out a small chuckle at that. Only JJ could say that sort of cringey stuff so honestly. 

Well, maybe not only JJ, but he’s the only person Seung-gil would believe. 

_ I hope you are happier now (you’ve seemed a bit off lately?).  _

He stops. If JJ of all people noticed that… 

_ Anyway, merry Christmas.  _

_ Love,  _

_ JJ  _

Seung-gil looks down, waiting to find the inevitable P.S. where Isabella sent him her regards and it all came crashing down with its reality. But there was no actual mention of Isabella. 

That somehow hurt more, along with the end of the letter. 

“Love.” How dare he. “Love.” Did he know? 

_ Love.  _

Of course he didn’t know. He was _JJ._ Of course he had no idea. That was the worst. There he was: in pain, burning to have some of JJ’s attention. And the guy had no idea at all. 

He did not know Seung-gil enough for that, which was both a relief and a knife in his gut. But wasn’t it Seung-gil’s fault? 

He felt like throwing the gifts away. He felt like holding them to his chest and never letting go. Instead, he sent a text to the Love Counseling group. 

“Emergency meeting.” 

Emil quickly answers with: “Have to train. Sorry, can’t help. You okay, tho?” 

Yuri just replies with “same.” 

And just when Seung-gil was ready to give up and just bury himself on Mongshil’s fur, Phichit writes: 

“I’ll call you right away!” 

It’s awkward. It’s very awkward. When it’s the four of them, it is easier to ignore the fact that he’s actually communicating with other people. It makes it seem more like a business meeting when it’s the four of them. Just… a business meeting that has to do with feelings. 

It’s not a good simile, to be fair, but it’s better than nothing. 

Thing is, Phichit connects, and he listens as Seung-gil reads the letter. His voice, thankfully, only shakes at times. 

“Aw, well, that’s sweet,” Phichit says in the end, and right when Seung-gil is about to protest that it’s most definitely _not,_ that it is a terrible letter, Phichit adds: “I suppose that’s the problem.” 

And Seung-gil doesn’t want to admit he’s right, but, sadly, he is. “Yes,” he admits, after doubting his words for a bit. “I just… want to stop this. It seems everything he says or does makes me… _feel_ something.” There’s clear disgust in his voice, but Phichit nods understandingly. “And it doesn’t end.” 

Phichit purses his lips a little, and then shrugs. “I understand.” 

Seung-gil scoffed. “No, you don’t, none of you do.” 

And that’s also a problem, because they just don’t know how to help him. 

Phichit only laughs a little, and says: “Maybe you should just… talk about it.” 

“That’s what I am doing,” Seung-gil replies, frowning. 

“Yes, but, I mean, maybe you should _actually_ talk about it. You know, examine things a little with help of other people, instead of just talking at them?” 

Seung-gil does a double take. What’s that supposed to mean? “Uhm, what?” 

Phichit sighs. “Sorry, that was mean. Anyway, perhaps-” 

So it _was_ a jab. “No, say it.” 

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing.” 

“Say. It.” Seung-gil demands. 

And Phichit sighs. “It is just that… well. Some members-” 

Seung-gil scoffs. Members. Right. Like they were such an eminent society. 

Nonetheless, Phichit continues “- have pointed out that you don’t really… let them talk.” 

“It was Yuri, wasn’t it? Well, tell him-” 

“Emil also said it.” 

Well, that’s a surprise. He didn’t know Emil was a backstabbing asshole. 

“And I agree.” Phichit finishes. 

Seung-gil crosses his arms over his chest. “Is this because I complained about the Christmas talk?” 

“Partly.” 

“It was stupid talk. It served no purpose.” 

“Well, some people just like to distract themselves when they are in pain.” 

Seung-gil lets out a loud, sarcastic “ha”, and Phichit sighs again. “What? They are not in pain.” 

“Of course they are. They are in love.” Phichit replies, still amicably enough, which makes him hard to take seriously. 

“They are not. They ‘like’ Michele and Otabek, for some reason. They always say just that. They like them. Not love them.” 

“Well, you don’t say you love JJ either.” 

Seung-gil pauses. That hurts to hear. And it is also just… it’s not true. Right? He pauses. “Fine, even if it is true, you all know I-...” he can’t even complete that sentence. “You know it.” 

Phichit is smiling in an almost smug way. “Why don’t you believe it from them? What if they are just as embarrassed as you?” 

In reply, he rolls his eyes. “It’s not the same.” 

“Hmm? How so?” 

“Because neither Michele or Otabek are in an established relationship. They wouldn’t know how I feel.” 

“True, but they can put themselves in your place.” Seung-gil is about to protest. “They can try. Can’t you?” 

“No. Their problems are ridiculous.” 

Phichit pinches the bridge of his nose. “It just… it comes across as if you thought you have it worse than them?” 

Seung-gil snorts. “Well, I do, obviously.” And Phichit looks up with tired eyes. It’s the first time Seung-gil has seen that sort of expression on him and he has no idea how to react. So he ignores it, because he’s being _rational_ right now. “Objectively speaking, I do.” 

“Yeah, okay. But feelings aren’t objective, Seung-gil. That’s why they are, you know, feelings and not facts. They feel bad.” 

“Because they are being stupid.” 

Phichit takes a deep breath. “Okay, why?” 

“They can tell them what they feel. It’s that easy.” 

“No, it’s not. They are their friends. Their _best_ friends.” Phichit argues, voice soft but clearly somewhat upset. “You have to understand, right?” 

Seung-gil shrugs. 

So Phichit continues talking. “Would you have told him if he wasn’t dating Isabella?” 

Seung-gil frowns for a moment at that. 

Well, would he? 

“It doesn’t matter. He is.” He decides, soon enough. 

“Just… try to think of it.” 

Seung-gil decides to humor him for a moment. He avoids Isabella, but he has never thought about that. What if she actually wasn’t there. What if JJ was single? 

It hurts to think of it, but soon he decides: “I would tell him.” 

Phichit’s eyebrows knit together for a moment. “Would you, really?” 

“Yes,” Seung-gil replies confidently. 

“I… don’t believe you. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he rushes to explain, “I believe you believe you would. But there’s the fact that, well, you are thinking about it from your current perspective. As in, you know _now_ you would want to tell him. But if you didn’t know he was going to find someone else, and you really, really appreciated his friendship….” 

Phichit trails off. Seung-gil doesn’t reply right away. 

Despite everything, Phichit’s words make… sense. 

“Fine,” he says, and Phichit’s face lights up. “But the point is I am not in that situation,” Phichit sighs again, his hopes, apparently, crushed. “I know better.” 

“What if JJ didn’t like you? What if JJ is straight?” 

_ Oh. Right.  _ He was so convinced about his argument and the futility of thinking of other situations that he didn’t take… that into consideration. 

Seung-gil stays quiet. 

“You see, then!” Phichit announces triumphantly. 

Seung-gil refuses to let him celebrate. “Still, I think they remain on topic. If they are in pain, why not talk about it.” 

“Because… you don’t let them,” Phichit explains, voice a bit slow, like he is in disbelief. Like Seung-gil is a kid. He doesn’t appreciate that“Whenever they start doing that, you say something like ‘at least he’s not engaged’. You act as if their feelings were invalid.” 

Well, it’s not that they are _invalid,_ it’s just that they are _stu-_

Seung-gil scoffs. “Fine, I get your point.” Phichit is still just beginning to smile again when he interrupts with: “But I ought to have priority.” 

Phichit looks exhausted for a moment. He takes a long, deep breath and then just says “No.” 

“No?” 

“No,” he repeats. “Nobody has priority, okay? Everyone should talk the same.” 

Seung-gil rolls his eyes “Except you, right?” 

Phichit blinks, confused. “Uh? Me?” 

“You never talk.” Seung-gil is aware he is being petty and nitpicky, but he’s irritated. “Actually, why are you even here? Are you just collecting more gossip?” 

“What?” Phichit seems startled. “No.” 

Seung-gil bets he is. And he is probably discussing it. “Do Guang Hong and Leo know about my feelings?” 

“No!” Phichit rushes to say, but Seung-gil doesn’t believe him. “I wouldn’t do that! You’ve trusted me, I wouldn’t-” 

“I didn’t trust you. You just forced me to say the truth. You forced everyone to say the truth. Why?” 

Phichit laughs awkwardly. “I just thought it would be good if-” 

“Why?” Seung-gil insists. 

And Phichit stops, thinks. Then he lets out a deep sigh. 

There’s a deep silence. And something heavy about Phichit’s expression, which he then covers with his hand.  “Fine, he says, after at least ten seconds. “Before that, can I ask you a question?” Seung-gil is about to say no. “Please?” 

“Fine,” he replies, just a bit curious. 

“Who is going to be JJ’s best man?” 

Seung-gil raises his eyebrows. “Sorry, what?” 

“His best man. Who is it?” 

“His brother. Why are… why are you asking me this?” 

And Phichit uncovers his face, smiling painfully at the camera. “Well, at least you are not his best man, right?” 

“What is that supposed to-?” He stops. 

Phichit is just chuckling a little, but it might as well sound like he’s crying and- 

“Katsuki.” Seung-gil says, softly. 

“Yes,” Phichit replies. 

Seung-gil doesn’t know what to say, so he just asks “How long?” 

“I liked him since I saw him, that was four years ago. From then, I guess it just… grew.” 

Not knowing what to say, Seung-gil doesn’t ask anything for a while, but then it occurs to him: “Is this one of the things that came up while I was ignoring you?” 

“No.” 

“So no one else knows?” 

“Emil does. He started to talk to me about Mickey because he noticed.” Phichit seems to be going back to normal, because he’s smiling more easily. 

“Oh.” And Seung-gil had to have a light shone upon it. 

“So Yuri- I mean, Plisetsky… he doesn’t know?” 

“No,” Phichit chuckles. “I don’t think he would take it well. After all, I’m in love with what might as well be his brother-in-law. And he obviously cares about Yuuri and...” he pauses “Viktor. Separately _and_ as a couple. I just don’t want to-” 

He doesn’t finish the sentence. “You’ll have to tell him,” Seung-gil says, after a while. “Not… right now, but…” He hesitates. “I think you need the support.” It sounds like such a stupid thing to say. But it’s out there, now. He cannot change it. 

Phichit laughs. “I thought the same. About you. I thought maybe we could all be friends. Can we?” 

Seung-gil stays silent for a bit. “We can try,” he decides. 

“That’s nice. It was nice talking to you,” Phichit says. 

“It was… okay.” Seung-gil shrugs. It is the ending of the conversation, obviously. Phichit disconnects first. 

When he looks back at JJ’s letter, he is finally able to do something about it. 

He’s able to text a picture and a “Thank you” to JJ. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOooooOo, I wanted to publish this chapter very much ever since I planned it.  
> I think things should speed up from now on, narrative-wise, but I'm not completely sure because sometimes the characters take over.
> 
> Anyway, I said I was going to put something here and I'm going to.  
> This story is taking place by the end of 2017. I will talk about the 2016 season. Specifically, about Seung-gil. His theme was honor as said here. His Free Skate song was **[Votre Toast Je Peuz Vous le Rendre (or the Toreador Song from Carmen)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=us-zh99-cVk)** only without the "L'amour"s at the end. He wore something like [this](http://i.imgur.com/x4pxhA0.jpg). If you want to ignore my general lack of drawing/coloring skills, it's is almost entirely based on [this](http://i.imgur.com/iVrAp4L.png).  
>  I have his SP song but that I will save for another time, see if I get any clothing ideas. I doubt it.
> 
> Anyways, thanks very much. Leave a comment or come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://nahiara-the-trash.tumblr.com), if you'd like! It means a lot to me!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying is hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took this long. I've been a little down lately. Which is to some degree (entirely) due to me being sad about writing [It's Quiet (In Montreal)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10188806) (mind the warnings, if you read it!)
> 
> But aside from that, I also didn't really know where to go with this. I mean, I know how it will go further ahead, but not this transitional moments. It's complicated. Sorry, again. Hope you like this :>

But trying is different from accomplishing it. 

It’s incredibly annoying, just to sit there, in the presence of the meanest looking cat he has ever seen. It honestly looks like Yuri stole it from an action movie villain. It’s even more annoying because Yuri is whining again:

“So, I thought _Mila_ was a problem already, but Beka is telling me he has been hanging out with this _rinkmate of his_ and he keeps talking about her, and-”

Now, that is about the point in which Seung-gil would roll his eyes, sneer and ask: “Do you even know if Otabek likes girls? A lot of skaters are not straight. Meanwhile I happened to be in love with one who has a _fiancée._ ”

But Seung-gil’s not doing that. 

He said he wouldn’t do that. Or at the very least implied it, and sure, he could go into loopholes. It’s not like he signed a contract or agreed to specific terms, but he knows what the intent was.

“What’s it now, asshole?” Yuri asks, however.

There’s silence. Seung-gil glances, confused, about the screen.

“I’m talking to you!” Yuri says. Seung-gil is still lost.

“He means you, Seung-gil,” Phichit whispers, which is stupid since everyone can hear him anyway.

“Me? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, you did,” Yuri scoffs.

“Kinda,” Phichit adds.

“You were gritting your teeth,” Emil informs him, finally.

Oh, guess his body still isn’t aware of the fact he is being  _ neutral  _ now. He is  _ listening. _

“It’s nothing,” Seung-gil dismisses. Yuri looks surprised, then angrier. So does his cat.

“Out with it.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“Never has stopped you before.” Yuri comments, which, to be honest, isn’t even  _ fair _ . Why doesn’t he get told off for being an ass too? Oh, right. Probably because Yuri Plisetsky without attitude is just a scared kid with too-big of a pair of shoes to fill. Nothing more.

Seung-gil sighs, decides to be honest. “Look, it’s nothing helpful. So I’ll just shut up.”

Yuri blinks. “What.”

Emil nods.

Phichit lets out a chuckle. “I’m sure you can say what you want  _ kindly. _ ”

Seung-gil rolls his eyes,  _ doesn’t  _ sneer, but asks: “Do you even know if Otabek likes girls? A lot of skaters don’t. Especially lately. I mean, look at us.”

There’s silence. Yuri frowns and looks at his screen. 

“... I like girls,” Emil informs them after a bit.

Seung-gil squints. Nobody asked him. But Seung-gil is trying to be  _ kind,  _ right?  “I meant, lots of skaters don’t like women  _ exclusively. _ ”

Emil leans his head from side to side. “Now that I agree with.”

Now it’s Yuri’s time to squint. “Is that meant to imply something?”

The other two are clearly as confused with that as Seung-gil is.Who is it even directed at? Well, maybe Phichit isn’t confused and just feigning confusion to keep his facade of an innocent person. But Seung-gil is the one to admit: “I have no idea what you mean.”

Yuri raises his eyebrows. “Oh, come on. I mean, Emil... It… it sounds like- like….” And there’s some extra color to Yuri’s face. He’s flushing a little? What the actual hell? “I mean, are you into the two of them?”

Silence. 

Of course. Yuri is a teenager. He might be a gay teenager, but his gutter-mind spreads to everything, because that’s what teenagers minds do. 

Phichit giggles. Of course he got that. 

But Emil… Emil narrows his eyes. “I don’t quite get what you mean-”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Yuri growls. “I’m just… are you….” He waves his hands around and shuts up.

Seung-gil sighs. All for the sake of ‘conversation’. “He’s asking you if you are into Sara too.”

Emil lets out a weird sound. Something between a laugh and a sigh.

And he blinks.

And he blinks again.

And no one knows what to say.

“Uhm, I mean…” And then he runs his hand over his beard, raising his eyebrows. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think of that.”

“Dude!” Yuri says. 

“Gross.” Seung-gil adds.

“Not like… not like that!” It’s the first time Seung-gil has seen Emil flustered. And even then, he’s not  _ really  _ flustered. He’s just chuckling a little and twisting the tip of his beard (seriously, why doesn’t he shave that awful thing off?). 

“Yeah, sure,” Yuri grumbles. “Like if those two weren’t weird enough already.”

Seung-gil hates to agree, so he doesn’t out-loud. “So you are after  _ any  _ of them?” 

Emil rolls his eyes. And it’s funny. It’s the first time he seems actually slightly annoyed. “No. It’s different.” His voice sounds determined. Strong. Seung-gil doesn’t understand but he believes him. “I mean… Sara is really pretty. But it’s not the same.” He sighs. “She’s not Mickey. She will never be.”

Nobody says anything, so Emil continues:

“It’s like, I don’t know. Sara is intense in her own way, and she’s fun. But, I don’t know. I like her. But I’m not… I’m not in love with her.”

There is this moment of dawning realization on Emil’s face. He just used the words no one had been daring to say. And instead of stepping back, the way Yuri or even Seung-gil would, he chuckles, like he is relieved. Like he is happy. 

“Wow,” Emil mutters.

Yuri stares a bit at his screen. Probably at Emil. And then he asks: “Why? Why do you feel like that? He’s so…”

“Clingy,” Seung-gil offers.

“Angry,” Yuri continues.

“Nosy,” Phichit adds, after a moment’s thought. 

Emil hums a little, and then shrugs. “You see, that’s the thing. For you that’s bad. But for me, he’s affectionate, honest and caring.”

“How?” Yuri sneers.

“That doesn’t seem healthy,” Seung-gil comments.

Emil meditates over it a moment, then snaps his fingers. “I’ve got an idea! You try to justify how you feel!” 

From any other person, that would sound mocking, but from Emil it sounds so sincere, Seung-gil only half-heartedly says “No.”

“Oh, come on. It will be easy right?” Yuri mocks him. “Oh, wait, forgot that you like Jerk-Jackass.”

Seung-gil scoffs. “Well, you like Mister No-Personality.”

“What?!” Yuri scares his cat. That makes it, for a second, not look like the devil incarnate. “Beka has a personality.”

Phichit grimaces “He’s kind of… hard to read, though.”

“And reckless, if the rumors I’ve heard of him are true,” Emil chuckles.

Yuri frowns. “Okay, first of all, yes, most are true, but that doesn’t mean… Beka is great. And he’s so fucking cool, and he is just honest, which is great after being around people like Viktor and the pig.”

“Yuuri,” Phichit whispers.

“Whatever,” Yuri disregards him. He also seems to disregard or miss the grimaces on Seung-gil and Emil’s faces. “The thing is, he’s awesome, and he’s daring, okay? And it’s fun to be by his side, and… How about JJ, huh?! He’s so loud!”

“True,” Emil says. “And kinda childish.”

“And, well… a little bit annoying.” Phichit adds, in an apologetic tone. But he says it.

They look, presumably, at the place in their screens where Seung-gil is. They seem expectant.

“What?” Seung-gil raises his eyebrows a little.

“So, are you, like, going to defend him?” Emil is the one to ask.

Seung-gil pauses. “No.”

And Yuri smirks. “Hm?” 

“What is it?” Seung-gil questions, frowning.

“Even you can’t do that? Doesn’t seem too ‘loving’.” Yuri sticks his tongue out, like he’s grossed out by the word. He probably is.

And Seung-gil sighs. “He is all those things. He’s loud, and annoying, and childish. He’s stupid. He can’t make friends for shit.”

Yuri is nodding.

Seung-gil disregards him and continues, listing all the defects he can think of. All the defects he has already thought of. “On top of talking at a ridiculous volume, he talks  _ too  _ much, and mainly about himself. And he’s a ridiculous idealist, and he aims for too much.”

_ “But somehow, he is not ambitious enough, is he?” _ , Seung-gil thinks.

Emil scowls. 

“Seriously, he’s such a perfectionist. It’s annoying. All of him is annoying. He’s ridiculous. He does things without thinking them through. He is overly attached to his family. He spends too much money on stupid things.” Seung-gil’s face is twitching.

Even for Seung-gil. Why does he spend money on Seung-gil? It certainly gives the wrong impression. Except it would be the right impression if only it was  _ him. _

Phichit opens his mouth and hesitantly says: “Okay. Seung-gil. I- we understand-”

“And his eyebrows are too big, and his hair is dumb, and he never pays attention, and-” He’s digging his nails into his palm, now.

“Seung-gil.” Emil says, and if they were face to face, he probably would have put his hand on Seung-gil’s shoulder. “I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” Seung-gil asks, through gritted teeth. Even Yuri seems a little weirded out.

“If he’s so terrible, why do you-?”

“It’s just…” He takes a deep breath. “It’s just I do. He annoys me to no end, believe me.” But everyone annoys him, really. “It’s just… it doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it really doesn’t.” Yuri comments. “When I’m around Beka, I feel… calm.”

Emil laughs. “Really? When I’m around Mickey I feel excited!”

Phichit smiles wistfully, eyes downcast for a moment. “How do you feel around JJ, Seung-gil?”

Seung-gil thinks it over. “I….” Words fail him, for a moment. “I… I don’t know. I just...” He wants to say ‘I just feel’. But they wouldn’t understand that. Nobody would. Seung-gil doesn’t quite get it himself. “I feel…” Alive, and not regretfully so. “It’s-” Happy. Marvelled. Lost. Outraged. 

Seung-gil pauses a moment. How is it that these people can figure it out so much more easily than him? How is it that he is sure even Phichit would know what to say about his feelings for Yuuri Katsuki? It’s not fair. It’s not  _ rational,  _ at all. 

“I feel confused,” he finally admits.

Emil scratches his head. “Well, so do I. Right now, I mean.”

Yuri nods. “Seriously, what is your deal?” Can’t you-?”

“Shhh,” Phichit says. And for once, Seung-gil is…

“Thankful.” Seung-gil says.

“Uh?” Emil and Yuri say in unison, though the latter far more indignant than the former. 

“I feel thankful.”

Yuri seems shocked for a moment, then he laughs. “For JJ?! Seriously?! Who could ever-?”

“Yuri.” Phichit says, seriously. “He does, okay?”

Seung-gil is looking down, and if he stops the reeling of his emotions and thoughts bubbling in his head, he can feel his body shaking slightly. Like at the 2015 Rostelecom Cup. Like at Worlds in Boston. Like the first night at Jong-su’s apartment. 

“Don’t you?” Phichit adds.

“Not for fucking JJ!” Yuri replies.

“Well, he is not your friend! He is mine.” Seung-gil snaps.

But not  _ that  _ way. Not in the way in which he wants him to be. Right.

Right.

_ Right. _

“Just like I can’t get why you are into Otabek, you can’t get why I’m into JJ. So let’s just accept it and move on!” His voice feels like it’s about to break. Thankfully, it doesn’t.

Yuri seems surprised. Even vulnerable. At least that’s how he looks when Seung-gil sees him out of the corner of his eye. 

“I just…” Yuri comments, in an almost soft voice. 

“I don’t care. Fuck off, Yuri.”

Seung-gil disconnects. 

  
  


It all boils down to the fact it isn’t fair. Seung-gil is trying to move a step forward, but Yuri Plisetsky keeps pushing him back. 

Well, it’s not like the others are being helpful, either, but at least they seem like they are  _ trying  _ to get it. 

It’s just… well, it’s just he is annoyed and he can’t think straight. So he has two options. One is a bar. But even that is too much trouble.

So he grabs his phone and texts:

“Meet you in 30 at your place.”

  
  


Jong-su is already shirtless when he opens up the door. Altogether, it’s is not an unpleasant sight. He is toned without being burly. He is smirking at Seung-gil, until he gives him a once-over. Then his smile fades.

“What in hell are you wearing?”

Seung-gil looks down at himself. “A sweater. Pants. Sneakers.”

Jong-su scoffs. “You are wearing a dog-print sweater which would be almost acceptable, but it is  _ far  _ too tight; crinkled multicolored pants and… Holy shit, sandals with socks?!”

“It’s cold outside.”

“Wear boots like a human being.”

Seung-gil rolls his eyes. “Shut up and get out. The driver is waiting for you to pay him.”

Jong-su sighs and shakes his head. He pats his shoulder as he walks out. “Get inside and undress in the meanwhile.”

Seung-gil goes towards Jong-su’s bedroom and gets rid of his clothes. There’s no point in wasting time, after all. 

It’s the first time he is there since the Grand Prix Finals. He has to admit It’s easier to stop thinking about how annoying everyone is in the Love Counselling group when he is not at home, when the walls don’t seem to continue echoing with the sound of the others’ voices. Their mocking.

It’s not completely successful, but it’s better.

He hears Jong-su’s steps coming back towards the apartment. He always treads too loudly. 

Seung-gil scowls. “Did you just go out without a shirt.” 

Jong-su’s teeth are chattering as he leans on the doorframe and laughs lightly. “I was in a hurry and I didn’t expect it to be so cold.”

In return, Seung-gil merely raises his eyebrows. “‘In a hurry’? Seems like you haven’t gotten laid in a while.” He walks towards Jong-su, whose smirk and once-over is not interrupted this time.

“Seems wrong, then. I had sex yesterday.”

Seung-gil scoffs, resting his hand on Jong-su’s chest. “Then it was bad.”

Jong-su looks down at him for a second, then ruffles Seung-gil’s hair. “No. But even if that was the truth, you certainly won’t fix it.”

Seung-gil scoffs and then kisses him. Words die.

The sex is bad, but they both expect nothing more of it. It’s not, after all, some sentimental thing. It’s not even a drawn-out search for satisfaction. It’s efficient, it’s cold and it’s what Seung-gil needs.

Jong-su finishes dressing and cleaning while Seung-gil just lies there, looking at the ceiling.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” Jong-su asks, from the bathroom.

“No,” Seung-gil replies, standing up and getting dressed. “I’ll check on your fridge.”

“Don’t bother, I forgot to buy stuff. Order something. You choose the place.”

Normally, Seung-gil would reject that offer, as he has done all the other times, but he is aware of the increasing number of messages in the chat he has muted. And, truly he doesn’t need an excuse not to answer, but he prefers it. 

“We’re having beef,” Seung-gil replies, to which Jong-su replies by saying absolutely nothing for a few seconds.

“Oh, so you are staying tonight?”

“Probably not, but I’m having dinner here, since you offered.”

Jong-su hums lightly, and keeps doing whatever he was doing, which is probably not cleaning. He has never taken this long on that. But Seung-gil doesn’t question him. He simply orders the food. Frankly, he doesn’t care. 

Right up until the point Jong-su shows up with what looks like a thin cloth on his face.

“Sheet mask?” Seung-gil asks, raising his eyebrows.

Jong-su lies down on the bed and nods slowly, as he sets an alarm on his phone.

“Didn’t know you used them.”

The other rolls his eyes, then shrugs.

Seung-gil grimaces a little and then goes to the bathroom, finding the masks’ package. “Anti-acne? Aren’t you too old for that?”

He hears Jong-su scoff, and then mumble. “I’m just 28.”

“Whatever. I’m taking one of these,” Seung-gil replies, and washes his face, moisturizes it, and then puts the mask on his face. He goes back to the bed and plays a game on his phone, while Jong-su does exactly the same. 

They rest there for fifteen minutes, saying nothing, until Jong-su’s alarm rings and he goes back to the bathroom. Seung-gil follows him after a little. They both get rid of their mask.

“I didn’t take you to be so vain,” Jong-su comments, with a small smirk.

“Beauty treatments are hardly vanity when your image is part of your career.”

“Thought Lee Seung-gil was well-known for not giving in to fanservice.”

Seung-gil rolls his eyes at that. Jong-su has this annoying habit of calling him by his full name every so often. Seung-gil doesn’t get it. “It’s not fanservice if it’s not directed at fans.”

“Who is it directed at, then?”

“Possible sponsors.” Jong-su seems to be satisfied with that reply. They stay in silence. Then he remembers it: the risks. So he opens out his mouth and asks, as nonchalantly as he can: “How about you? How vain are you?”

“Very,” Jong-su replies, making his way back to the room.

Seung-gil washes his face and then follows. “Since when?”

“Since always?” Jong-su seems confused.

“Since when do you do the mask thing, I mean, you idiot.”

Jong-su  _ is  _ confused. Seung-gil can see him in the way he frowns. “Does it matter? Since when do you care?” Seung-gil scoffs, recognizing Jong-su’s skepticism and unable not to relate it to before. “Is it that hard to believe I might just want to ask?” 

Jong-su doesn’t mince his words. “Yes. It is.”

And Seung-gil’s scowl deepens. “Why is that?”

The answer is something he needs, but not something he necessarily wants.

“Because you are a self-centered asshole,” Jong-su replies, but his tone is considerably nonchalant. He does not intend to hurt him.

Still, it is annoying, because Seung-gil is… Well, he cannot say that’s not true. Seung-gil glares a little at him and then mutters, hating how ridiculous he sounds: “I’m trying to change that.”

“Oh, are you, now?” Jong-su says, and this time he doesn’t appear to be mocking him. He looks at Seung-gil, tilting his head a little to the right and examining him from head to toe, as if something in Seung-gil’s outward appearance might reveal the answers to Jong-su’s questions. “Since when?”

“Since… a while ago. I had a conversation with a frie- an acquaintance,” he changes the word before he can finish saying it, because he doesn’t like it. It’s not the truth and, furthermore, it is far too sentimental-sounding. 

But it’s enough to make Jong-su think he knows what’s going on. “JJ,” he replies, nodding a little.

“No.” Seung-gil interrupts, brusquely. It is not pleasant to hear that name in that place. Jong-su’s apartment is a sort of safe haven. A panic room. Only he’s not in danger or panicking, he’s just horny or tired. But anyway, it is a place where feelings do not reach him. 

Jong-su glances at him again, and laughs, probably not believing him. But at least he changes the topic. “Well, since you are trying to be different… I’ve been doing the mask thing for a few months.”

Seung-gil is on the verge of grateful, but he is not visibly so. “Why?”

“I don’t like acne, I want to keep my skin clear, and a friend recommended it.”   


It’s Seung-gil’s turn to be incredulous. “You have  _ friends _ ?”

Jong-su snorts a little. “Yeah, a lot of them, of course.”

“I’ve never heard you talk of anyone but your boyfriends.”

“Who are, of course, also my friends,” Jong-su defends himself.

“Ew.”

“Oh, excuse me, Mister No-Affectivity. Didn’t want to gross you out.” But by the looks of Jong-su, the way he is walking around, glancing at Seung-gil with this big smile on his face, he finds it pretty amusing. On anyone else, this would seem almost a threatening attitude. But it just isn’t. Jong-su might be fit, but he is just not an intimidating person.

“Well, you did,” Seung-gil replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where did you meet your friends?” He asks mainly because he wants to say something, anything, to prove himself that he can care. He isn’t expecting an actual reply, though.

“Where everyone else does. School, university, bars.”

Seung-gil scoffs.

Jong-su stares for a bit. “Oh, if you don’t believe it, then tell me where  _ you  _ have made your friends.”

The answer is easy: “Skating.”

“Well, not all of us can skate.”

“You certainly can’t.”

Jong-su purses his lips and then shrugs. “True. But one of my boyfriends can. Sam-”

“I don’t care,” Seung-gil replies instinctively, to which Jong-su just laughs a little.

“I knew that.”

“Knew what?” Seung-gil questions, but the answer is obvious.

“You don’t care. You never have.” Jong-su is not hurt, but amused.

“Well, I’m trying to.”

“No, you are trying to pretend. And you are a good liar but a bad pretender.” 

“That makes no sense.”

Jong-su raises an eyebrow. “Or does it?” 

Seung-gil huffs. There’s a short silence.

“All I’m saying” Jong-su speaks at last, “is that if you want people to believe you now magically care about anyone but yourself and some few others, you got to put some effort on it.”

Seung-gil is preparing to go, food be damned. It’s been to much ridiculous conversation right now.

He stops. 

That is part of the problem, isn’t it?

So Seung-gil sighs. “Fine, how do I do it?” And Jong-su seems genuinely shocked for a second, before laughing. “It’s like when a lecturer is giving a boring, obvious class. You make eye contact, you nod, you hear. You don’t have to listen, but you have to hear, in case they ask any question. You get me?”

Seung-gil hesitates for a second. “No.”

“Keep things in your short-term memory or something, instead of trying to store all the information. Also, you know, try not to be a dick.”

Seung-gil blinks. “What makes me one?”

Jong-su gives him a look that says ‘Come on’. But he just continues talking “The fact you think you know better than everyone else around you. Which is fine if you are on a topic you are better at, something you know better.”

“I  _ know  _ better.” Seung-gil complains.

“What is the topic?”

Seung-gil opens his mouth and closes it. What can he say? ‘Love’? He can’t say that. He would make a fool of himself. “Feelings.” 

Jong-su opens his eyes wide, and bites his lower lip, and after a while, there’s a high-pitched sound coming out of his mouth. “Oh,” he says, and when he opens his mouth, he explodes into laughter. 

Seung-gil just glares at him until he stops. Which takes a while. “What’s so funny?”

“You don’t know about feelings, Seung-gil,” Jong-su answers simply.

“I do.”

“Well, maybe about your own. But that won’t mean shit out there in the real world because people will not often talk to you about your feelings. People are selfish. They will want to talk about themselves. And if you want them to hear when you talk, you have to hear them yourself.”

Seung-gil grimaces.

“I know, it sucks,” Jong-su laughs.

Seung-gil squints at him. “Thought you had a lot of friends. Don’t you listen to them?”

Jong-su shrugs. “Sure I do.”

There something he is clearly keeping to himself, but Seung-gil doesn’t question him.

Instead,Seung-gil scoffs and lies down in the bed, waiting until the food arrives.

Jong-su doesn’t seem satisfied with the silence, however, because he sits down by Seung-gil’s side and comments “You know, part of caring for someone is sometimes saying things that will hurt them. But another part is keeping things to yourself when they are just unnecessary pain.”

Seung-gil turns his head towards him and mutters “You certainly don’t care about me, then.”

Jong-su raises his eyebrows and then lets out a chuckle. 

He never really answers to that.

  
  


After eating in relative silence, Seung-gil goes home. There, he falls asleep immediately after plugging his phone in.

Next day, he wakes up with a bunch of message from the Love Counselling group. He scrolls over them. Then there are private messages. There is one message from Phichit where he apologizes and says he talked to Yuri and a bunch more other empty words that Seung-gil ends up skimming over.

Then there’s Emil who just asks “Are you okay??” He decides not to answer.

And then, to his shock, there’s Yuri:

“Let’s just move on, okay?”

And Seung-gil has several things he would like to say, one of which is that Yuri is an asshole. That he can’t just expect him to ignore his insensitive comments without a proper apology. 

But even he knows, that’s bullshit. 

Once, JJ told him that skating was about courage. Seung-gil immediately rejected the idea:

“No, it isn’t. That’s an attitude.Skating is about skill.”

But JJ insisted. “You can’t get skillful if you are not daring.” At that, Seung-gil frowned, confused, and JJ seemed delighted to be able to explain. Like he never had had someone to hear that out. At least not someone who understood. “When you jump, you have to be confident. If you think you are not going to land the jump, then you’ll never let yourself leave the ground, you know? So it is about courage, and certainty and, just, you know, confidence.”

Seung-gil paused, blinked repeatedly. He had not been expecting a mildly insightful comment, just something said in the heat of the moment without any thought attached. He smirked a bit at that. 

JJ is right. That is a bit of a relief and a lot of a surprise. There have been too many instances in which skaters around Seung-gil discussed their experiences, telling of how they don’t think at all when they step on the rink; that their minds drift away to a ‘zone’ in which the ice and the music and their bodies are all united. 

Well, it’s not like that for Seung-gil. No, skating is about his mind never being clearer. It’s about his brain working quickly. It’s concentration. It’s seeing everything in sharpness. And yes, it is about courage. It’s about daring to jump, to spin, to slide. But not in a warm way, not JJ’s way. It’s about being calculating. It’s about making decisions and going through them.

He already made the decision to try and be… if not friendly, then friendlier. If not good, then better. And this kid won’t take away his determination, can’t make him go back on his word. So he moves forward. He moves on.

“Consider us even,” Seung-gil types.

Yuri doesn’t reply, but that’s as good a sign as it gets.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's afternote is short but significant.  
> Mainly, [LOOK AT THIS](https://confettiicakee.tumblr.com/post/158197328292/i-read-the-fic-cute-boys-with-short-hair-by). I didn't draw it, ofc. But it is so good and I'm so happy someone drew it! He looks so good! 
> 
> *flails*
> 
> Also, you should know I love Jong-su.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The European Championship happens and Four Continents is about to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. 
> 
> Thanks so much to [Art](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernArt2012) for betaing!

The thing is, Yuri also seems to be trying to listen to the others, now. 

He is not good at it. He certainly could use hearing Jong-su’s words. Nonetheless, telling him would mean others knowing they are not Seung-gil’s words, so it would also entail having to admit someone had helped him.

Seung-gil is not about to accept he’s been helped by anyone other than, maybe, JJ. And that’s because JJ has helped just as much as he has bothered him. Probably less, to be honest. The whole ‘falling in love’ aspect is certainly troublesome, especially when you add the fiancée factor. 

Who, by the way, now has Seung-gil’s phone number. She uses that knowledge to send him pictures of JJ when JJ’s phone is out of battery or when JJ is sleeping. So, most of what she sends are painful pictures of them together or sweet ones that are equally as painful, of JJ’s for-once peaceful face. It’s as if she knew and enjoyed torturing Seung-gil.

But maybe that’s giving her too much credit.

Seung-gil, once again, erases the “Stop” he has typed for her and changes it to absolute silence, so that the conversation is, once again, just her.

He frowns.

He turns to the Love Counseling group, calling them, and once again, complains: “She’s sending me pictures.”

“Share them!!” says Phichit. Seung-gil doesn’t. Phichit would share them with the world and  _ she  _ would know that it was him who leaked them. So, JJ would, too. And then, the questions about the why would probably start.

“Tell her to go to hell!” Yuri says, which Seung-gil also doesn’t do because then JJ would know. And then, the questions about the why would  _ definitely  _ start.

“I know how that is,” Emil replies. Which is not helpful, but it certainly is strange.

“You do?” Phichit asks, and they all turn to him (as much as you can “turn” to someone on a screen). 

It seems, Emil has had some things to tell, lately.

There’s the usual stuff like what he almost died doing in this or the other off-season: Tossing himself off a plane, tossing himself off a bridge, tossing himself down a hill in a giant, inflatable ball, etc. He seems to enjoy tossing himself a lot. Seung-gil can now actually recognize (but not understand) the state of mind that lead him to attempt four quads in the 2015-16 season.

But there’s also things regarding how he ended up there. How he ended up… in love. With Michele Crispino, of all people. And it turns out it doesn’t all have to do with Emil liking risks and big obstacles, or him being a fan of Michele’s skating since before they were rivals.

Turns out Michele and Emil know each other personally since 2010, from the Czech Skate competition where Emil went as a spectator to see his future competition live. And it turns out some hockey players were not happy about their rink being used for a ‘girly show’, which is why they began to harass people like Emil. Who, being only thirteen and far shorter then, didn’t have the guts to say anything to the burlier players. 

“I wasn’t with my parents, either,” he told, laughing fondly as if it wasn’t a bad experience. “So I was an easy target, I guess. Anyway, so I’m trying to make peace with these guys, one of which is about to punch me, when Mickey appears out of the dressing room and tackles him to the ground! Apparently, he had also bothered Sara.” Of course. Sara. It wasn’t Michele being a good person, just the creepy kind of protective he is all the time. That’s a stupid reason to be moderately attracted to someone.

“Isn’t that pretty dumb?” Yuri asked. “After all, he was not protecting you. He was protecting his sister.” Seung-gil, accidentally, nodded along with him. But it made sense, after all, to doubt that. 

“No, no. Wait! I’m not done yet! So, there I am, having also fallen to the ground, and he helps me up, apologizes in bad Czech…  and then asks about my parents.” Emil basically swoons. “And when I tell him I’m alone, he manages to get me into the rink earlier, shows me jumps, and also gives me his number in case I get into trouble the other days! And we’ve been friends ever since.”

Now, Seung-gil wouldn’t call that ‘friends’. But he guesses his own friendship also had a dubious start. 

And he guesses, also, that seven years have shown Emil a bit of whatever hidden depths Michele has. The same hidden depths he showed in  _ Serenade for Two.   _ Some sort of gentleness, of softness, a kind of melancholia. 

Seung-gil can sort of get it, even if he could never feel anything but aversion for Michele.

What he cannot get is why Emil has any inkling what it is like to get pictures from Isabella. Except, of course, when you actually think about it for a moment, it makes perfect sense.

“Sara sends you pictures?” Yuri also concludes, and Emil smiles and nods. 

And though he is bright in behavior, Seung-gil can’t help wonder if he’s like Phichit, hiding something painful underneath that smile.

“Does she know?” Phichit asks, voice softer. Probably he has the same question.

“That I like Mickey? Yes, of course!” Emil speaks animatedly.

“How about you being  _ in love  _ with her brother?” Seung-gil questions, after a bit.

Emil pauses. Grimaces. Opens his mouth, closes it, smiles again. “Nope!”

She probably does, Seung-gil thinks, because he knows that she is clever (otherwise how would she have gotten his number when he certainly didn’t give it to her?). But he feels this is something that Emil hides for a reason.

And for the first time maybe ever, he’s actually  _ curious  _ about Emil Nekola.

“Why don’t you tell her?” Seung-gil asks. “Why hide it from her?”

Emil hesitates, and frowns slightly. “I guess…” He lingers in silence, for a great while, until Yuri seems to be getting annoyed, and still, the silence continues. Until finally, more than half a minute later: “I guess I don’t want her to say anything or act differently.”

Yuri is the first to, concisely as always, express his confusion: “Huh?”

“Yeah, that,” Phichit adds, apparently as confused. 

“It’s just… If she suspects, it’s one thing. But if she  _ knows…  _ if I tell her… She can doubt me, my feelings, my intentions. She can try to help. And I… know that she’d try to encourage me, when really, it’s leading nowhere.” Emil lets out a small sigh, and he looks like a kicked puppy for a second.

“So you’ve given up like just like that?” Seung-gil expects that to have been Yuri, since he is direct enough to say that. But no. It’s Phichit.

And of course, it makes sense. How many regrets must that guy have?

Not that Seung-gil knows how things went down between Phichit and Yuuri, but he can make an informed guess. It’s the stuff of movies: years of silent pining, looking for a sign or some crap. A sign that never came because Katsuki was too immersed in his own insecurities, his training and, most likely, Viktor Nikiforov. Even before they got married.

“Not exactly, but…” And here Seung-gil is waiting for Emil to explain exactly that. To his surprise, he doesn’t, “It’s just, Mickey is just starting to let Sara do her own thing. They are just starting to be two separate people in his mind, or something like that. I think he deserves time to be by himself.”

That’s… insightful. Surprisingly clever, coming from a person who seems to have forgotten that shaving machines exist. 

Phichit seems to be satisfied too.

Yuri says nothing, which is all the more shocking. That, until Phichit turns the tables on him. 

“How about you, Yurio? Why don’t you tell Otabek?” He’s asking him as if he hadn’t been defending that choice against Seung-gil’s critiques a while ago.

Yuri huffs a little. “You know how Beka asked me to be his friend?”

“Yes,” Seung-gil rolls his eyes.

“You’ve mentioned it.” Phichit offers kindly.

“Like, five times.” Emil adds, happy again. “At the very least!”

Yuri glares at the camera. “Well, he just did. He just asked if we were going to be friends. I figure, if he wanted to be more than that, he would just ask as well.”

That’s… also surprisingly logical. Especially coming from a sixteen-year-old kid.

Seung-gil wants to ask Phichit for his reasons. The ones before Viktor found Yuuri. But he can’t. Not with Yuri there. 

So he leaves it for another time. 

 

That time comes not so much later, since Emil and Yuri soon have the European Championships. They are around less. Especially Yuri. After all, you don’t get a gold medal on your senior debut being lazy. ‘Prodigy’ be damned. 

Emil is on his lunch break, which is good. It makes things less awkward, since it’s not a one-on-one conversation.

Seung-gil starts the call.

“What did he do now?” Emil asks, energetically, and Seung-gil merely rolls his eyes.

“C’mon!” Phichit insists, and Seung-gil firmly believes if they were face-to-face, Phichit would be poking him.

“It’s actually not about JJ,” he says.

“Isabella, then?” Phichit says.

“No.”

“Mh… your dog is sick?” Emil offers.

“Don’t even joke about that. But no. Mongshil is fine. Actually, I had a question for Phichit.”

The two of them seem baffled. Seung-gil does not blame them… that much. After all, it’s irritating. Can’t he just be a bit intrigued in peace?

“Okay…?” Phichit says.

Seung-gil doesn’t hesitate for a second. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

Phichit doesn’t miss what he’s talking about. “Have you talked to him, Seung-gil?”

“Not much,” he admits. If ever. Katsuki hugged him once. That is about the weirdest and most memorable interaction they have had. 

“He’s very anxious.”

“I know that.”

“Everybody knows that.” Emil confirms.

“But he was even more anxious before,” Phichit continues. “While we lived in Detroit, he second-guessed almost everything he did. He got upset over things that seemed unimportant. Like paying the delivery man, or complaining when they got his order wrong.” A strange mix between sad and fond graces Phichit’s face. “Everything was so difficult for him and I just…” Emil nods, understanding before Seung-gil does. “I couldn’t put more pressure on him.”

Seung-gil frowns a little. There’s something bothering him, but he can’t quite understand what it is. But he gets it. 

The topic changes after a while of awkward silence, and then Emil leaves, which makes Seung-gil leave too.

 

Seung-gil doesn’t know how he feels being back at Taipei. After all, this is where it all began, in the same competition. He manages to avoid everyone else on the way to his room and, not knowing what to say, decides to just call. He knows he’s nervous. He just doesn’t know why.

He has the bad luck that that Yuri is first to answer. Maybe Phichit hasn’t gotten to the airport yet.. Emil is probably out with the Crispinos. And Mila Babicheva.

Why is it bad? Because Yuri has gotten comments from other skaters on his short program; Otabek Altin included.

“Viktor said it could be improved, but that’s stupid, because  _ of course it can.  _ But Otabek said I did a lot better than on the Grand Prix Final,” he comments, ever-present frown on his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

So Seung-gil is left to say the obvious, while he unpacks. “It means it’s better.”

“Yeah, but better how?”

“Well, you fell twice in Nagoya.” Yuri grumbles. “You fell only once and didn’t touch the ice at all this time.”

“So, just technical score?”

Seung-gil sighs. “I don’t know. I’m not a judge. What did Yakov tell you?”

“He yelled that I had to be better for Pyeongchang.” Something turns in Seung-gil’s stomach at that, if briefly.

“Lilia?”

“Said my Biellman looked awkward and stiff.”

In Seung-gil’s opinion, Biellman spins always look unnatural and like you are just showing off. However, according to Jong-su, most of skating is composed of “‘look what I can do’ things that don’t make a lot more sense”. Jong-su is stupid.

“So, he’s the only one to actually compliment you.” Seung-gil notes, feeling uncomfortable and wishing one of the others connected. It just feels as if there is a bomb about to blow up. And he doesn’t have the time to deal with a teenager’s stupid crisis when he has to rest and prepare to win.

Yuri seems surprised at that. “I guess so. Even if it is a pretty lame compliment.”

Seung-gil almost feels sorry for him. He remembers being that age, sometimes. He remembers the amount of people demanding he try and be good enough for Sochi. He remembers not even being chosen for it, ultimately, and the pain and frustration and  _ rage.  _ The wishing someone, anyone, would tell him “You did your best”. All in vain.

Add actual feelings for someone, it just seems very unpleasant.

But then he remembers that Yuri is a self-centered punk and it goes away.

“It is a lame compliment. But then again, Otabek is…, “ he barely contains himself. “Weird,” he replies, instead.

His restraint has no effect whatsoever, because Yuri scoffs either way. “Better than the loser you chose.”

“I didn’t-” Emil connects before Seung-gil can finish that. “Nevermind. Hello, Emil.”

“Hi!” He says, sounding a bit tired but still with more energy than most people. “What are you talking about?”

“Beka.” Yuri says, explaining the situation immediately after.

“Should have guessed,” Emil replies, chuckling softly. “If we were women, we would definitely not pass the Bechdel test,” he adds. And it’s… weird. But Emil seems to be pretty strange, all the time. So, at the very least it’s fitting. “Well, I’m guessing it’s just a compliment. Don’t overthink it.”

“But does it mean,” Yuri insists, “that I didn’t do well in the Grand Prix?”

Seung-gil tries to resist. He honestly does, but he is tired and he can’t help state the obvious: “Well, you didn’t win.”

There’s an awkward silence, and Yuri looks as if he sucked on a lemon. 

“But, but, but!” Emil quickly says, as if the repetition would help appease the anger boiling slowly to Yuri’s face, “At least you didn’t end up last!”

“No, you did,” Seung-gil points out. And that one thing is not meant as malicious, because he is assuming Emil won’t mind. 

He assumes correctly, because Emil just laughs.

“That’s not fucking fair,” Yuri says, finally, “I mean, what? If I lost to your weird-ass theme, I would want to quit skating.”

No one buys that, but Seung-gil can sort of see the point. Seems Emil’s theme’s are always curious. Here you have things like heritage, attraction, denial… and then you have-

“What’s wrong with ‘Apocalypse’?” Emil asks, honesty.

Yeah, that. 

“It’s just not….” Sane, “something the judges would like?” Seung-gil tries to cover up his thoughts.

“Yeah…” Yuri is visibly reluctant to agree with Seung-gil. At least they are on the same page on that.

“I think it’s fun! I mean, not the… world ending part. But it’s different!” Emil defends himself.

“Too different,” Seung-gil explains, with something that approaches kindness. “Not to mention the clothes-”

Emil seems like he’s about to ask, but Yuri lets out a loud laugh at that. A clearly mocking laugh.

“What’s it?” Emil asks.

“Not you, him!” Yuri says. Oh, so there is some sort of retaliation, in the end.

Seung-gil raises his eyebrows. “Me?” 

“Yes, it’s just… wait a bit.” Yuri takes his phone and checks it, and after a bit, both Emil and Seung-gil’s phones alert they have received something.

The something is a picture of Seung-gil’s  _ Almavivo  _ costume.

“Uh, what’s with this?” Seung-gil asks, confused.

“I mean, just.. What right do you have to  _ speak  _ of clothing after wearing… that,” Yuri points out with a smug smile.

Seung-gil frowns. He stays quiet for a long time, trying to figure out what to say which will erase the increasingly victorious expression from the kid’s face. He opts, in the end, to go for the truth. “I don’t get it.”

Yuri’s face falls. Emil just watches, twirling his beard. 

“What do you mean you don’t get it.” Yuri questions.

“I was saying that Emil’s clothes were boring. They were mainly black and brown. This has color on it.”

Yuri frowns. “You are fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“... No?” Seung-gil says, sincerely. 

“It’s just… it’s… you… who even allowed that?! Why did no one  _ question  _ it? It’s… it’s….” Yuri seems to be getting redder by the moment, not able to come up with the words for it. 

Emil is chuckling softly.

“It’s?” Seung-gil prompts him, a bit tired of it.

Yuri takes a deep breath. “Nevermind, I just… it doesn’t matt- Ah shit! It does! You looked like a parrot!”

Emil bursts out laughing, and Yuri is breathing with a slight difficulty. Like that took physical effort to either say or to fight.

Seung-gil waits a bit, tries not to say anything, despite the fact comebacks are pouring into his mind and… nope, he can’t resist. “At least I didn’t look like a feather boa.”

Yuri squints and replies, through gritted teeth and over Emil’s louder laughter: “At least I didn’t look like a feather duster!”

“You looked like a bunch of scribbles.”

“ _ You  _ looked like a pride flag”

“What’s bad about that?”

Silence for a second. “You looked as if you were screaming at the whole fucking world you are gay.”

Seung-gil snorts. “Well, genius. What else do you think I was trying to do? I was portraying male sex appeal for a reason and fanservice is not it.”

Yuri stammers. Emil’s gasping for air. “... well, I have better things to do than discuss your…. Mating dance. Or whatever. Bye.” He disconnects.

Seung-gil blinks, then looks at Emil who has tears in his eyes. “What are you laughing at?”

Emil opens his mouth, guffaws and shakes his head. “I… need a minute.” He also disconnects.

 

Phichit arrives to Taipei soon after that. He arrives, in fact just in time, because JJ has also gotten to the hotel. He’s holding hands with Isabella as they go out of their  _ shared  _ room. They are chuckling and giving each other looks that scream their affection for each other loud and clear, for all the world to get. Which is the only style that fits JJ.

“Seung-gil!” JJ yells as he sees him, across the lobby. “Did you already eat? Let’s have lunch together!”

Seung-gil doesn’t know how to reply. ‘No’ has always rolled off his tongue too easily, as a natural instinct. It’s easy. It requires no explanations. It’s also something that he can’t say at all at the moment. It just can’t happen.

He will ask why. JJ always asks why, and insists, and pleas with those big blue eyes of his that make Seung-gil’s stomach churn. And Seung-gil always gives up on explaining and gives in to his requests.

“I-” he starts. But out of somewhere -who knows where- appears Phichit:

“Seung-gil! How are you?”

JJ blinks and then grins. “Phichit!”

“Hi, JJ.”

Seung-gil recovers from his startlement. “I’m fine.”

JJ squeezes Isabella’s hand and then talks, a bit louder “I was just asking Seung-gil if he wanted to have lunch with us. Do you want to join?”

Phichit glances quickly between them, the way Isabella quiety and naturally stands by JJ. The way JJ looks at her after a bit, with this big, dopey grin.

A grin that falters ever-so-slightly, when Phichit says “Actually, I needed to talk to Seung-gil about some things first. We’ll be back soon, but you must be hungry, so… go eat. We’ll join you if we find you!”

Seung-gil merely nods along and waves lightly at JJ as Phichit gestures for Seung-gil to walk behind him, dragging his own bags. He has just arrived.

Seung-gil blinks. “That was exceptional good timing.”

Phichit chuckles. “I’m good at that! Otherwise I wouldn’t get such good pictures.”

Seung-gil wonders for a moment, then comments “I actually wanted to eat, though, you know?”

Another clear laugh resounds through the hall. “Well, that’s what room service is for. Oh! I’ll invite Guang-Hong and Leo! You can tell us about Pyeongchang and-”

Needless to say, it’s a long day.

 

The European Championship ends with Yuri getting silver. Emil finishes in sixth place, and Seung-gil can’t help but wonder what the hell even goes through that guy’s mind. His theme is weird, his clothes are drab and yet, he still seems happy, from outside the podium. 

It might be because Michele ended up with gold.

Seung-gil doesn’t understand that. 

Sure, he is happy when he finds out JJ has won the Nationals, or Skate Canada, or some competition or the other where they aren’t against each other. It means they’ll probably see each other in an international competition later on.

But when they are rivals, _ they are rivals _ .

Yet again, things might be different if he didn’t know each gold JJ earns equals a victory kiss, a victory dinner and all that. All with Isabella by his side. 

Not that he needs Isabella to actually be  _ there  _ this season, because…. No. He doesn’t even want to  _ think  _ about it.

Isn’t dwelling enough already?

Now that’s a question to ask the others.

Stupid as it sounds… No, stupid as it  _ is _ , Seung-gil decides to ask it. But the moment he calls for a LCM (why is he even calling them that?), Phichit insists on him going to the room. Seung-gil is too tired from practice to move and also the risk of running into JJ is too much. 

Meanwhile he connects.

Terrible mistake. He finds himself face to face with Emil and only Emil.  “Guess Yuri went to celebrate!”

“Guess so,” Seung-gil says. “You did not go with Michele?”

“He’s really tired. We’re going to celebrate tomorrow, though.”

“Ah,” Seung-gil says, and then they remain in silence. It’s awkward. Seung-gil, at least, thinks so. Emil just blinks and smiles.

Finally, there’s a knock on Seung-gil’s door and, though he hesitates to answer -what if it’s JJ, after all-, he opens it. And it’s Phichit.

“Hi!” Phichit greets, and then walks in, looking around as if his room wasn’t exactly the same.

“Hello!” Emil says from the computer.

“Mhm,” Seung-gil sits on the bed and Phichit follows, as if he was invited to do so. Well, he guesses it’s better if they share the camera. 

“You are not with Mickey!” Phichit points out as well.

Emil shrugs. “Yeah, he’s busy.”

“With Sara?” 

“No, sleeping.”

“Ah!” Phichit nods, Seung-gil stares.

There’s more silence. That’s when Phichit turns to Seung-gil.

“So, you called us, what’s the matter?”

“Right,” But Seung-gil can’t really say there’s something specific. Or rather, there is, but it is not an event, a moment, a fact. It’s a feeling. Another feeling other than the dreaded love. It’s just… something. He looks at Phichit. “Why do you think this will help?”

“‘This’?”

Seung-gil gestures with his head towards the computer. “This.”

“Oh, this,” Phichit says. “Well, it’s like… a talking cure!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s been, at least, mildly discredited,” Seung-gil replies, then turns to Emil. “Aren’t we just dwelling?”

“Dwelling?” Emil repeats. “I think we do that a lot, yes.”

Phichit makes a face. “Well, that’s just natural. Yo-” he stops, checks the screen, talks softer: “ _ We  _ are hurting. When you hurt, you shouldn’t keep it bottled up.”

“But there’s a difference between not bottling it up and wallowing in misery,” Emil points out. Seung-gil nods. “And then we end up playing misery poker against Mister “But-He’s-Engaged” here.”

Seung-gil frowns.

Phichit snorts. “Which one?”

Emil grimaces a bit. “The one who actually plays.”

There’s an awkward silence.

Phichit laughs first. “Guess I’m Mister ‘But-He’s-Married’, am I not?”

Seung-gil grits his teeth.

Emil coughs, and then perks up a little. “Well, but let’s not dwell, then. Let’s think about… let’s think about- wait, this is your first love, right?”

“Yes,” Seung-gil and Phichit admit in unison.

Emil continues “Let’s think about our second love, then!”

Seung-gil blinks. “Second… love.”

Phichit raises his eyebrows a little at that, equally surprised, it seems. “Could you explain what you mean by that?”

Emil nods. “Just, if you had to picture that someone else to fall for, how would they be?”

Phichit narrows his eyes, and Seung-gil can understand that. They didn’t ask to fall in love. It just happened, right? Neither Yuuri nor JJ seduced them. At least not willingly. At least not on purpose. 

They were just being themselves and they fell for them because… well, because love sucks. Because love isn’t a many splendored thing. Love is cruel except for some. Love is sad. 

Love is a destructive force. It gnaws, it gathers into a whirlwind and sweeps away everything else. And it goes around and around. 

Who would ever want love? Why fall in love again? 

Phichit fidgets uncomfortably and goes gaze out of the window of Seung-gil’s room.  

“You tell us first,” Phichit says, with an artificial spark to his voice. 

Emil thinks about it a little. “I would want someone who isn’t afraid of risks. Someone who joins me on a hike, someone who likes having fun, instead of resenting it.”

“So you want someone like you,” Seung-gil comments.

“I… guess!” Emil shrugs. “What about you?”

“I don’t know,” Seung-gil comments after some hesitation. “I never thought I would fall for someone. Much less someone like JJ.” He looks away from the screen. “I always figured I would settle down with no one. I was fine with that.”

Emil hums. Seung-gil also stands up, pacing around the room slowly.

Silence.

“And you, Phichit?”

Phichit thinks about it a little. “I have no idea. I didn’t… I didn’t fall for Yuuri’s personality. I mean, I did, of course. His hard work. His talent. His way to get happy. Even his anxiety.”

Down on the street, a car honks its horn loudly. Phichit’s eyes glisten as he looks down, Seung-gil catches, at a glance. And maybe he’s about to cry. He hurries through his words as if he’s ripping bandaids. 

“I just felt a connection. I just- we went through so many things together in Detroit! I wish I could undo each moment.” Seung-gil dreads to hear what comes next. It’s sappy and terrible. “And I wish that I could live them again. I didn’t fall in love with him because he’s a way or the other,-”

“Phic-” Emil says.

“-I fell in love with him because he’s my best friend.”

Silence, and then a muffled curse from Emil.

And then, a louder curse. “You son of a bitch!”

From Yuri Plisetsky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYS*
> 
> Well, since Emil got a lot of attention is this chapter, let's talk a little about his skating in this fic's season.
> 
> His SP song? A cut version to [ The Decemberists' _After the Bombs_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IN9REo4Le6g). His clothes? Pardon my non-spectacular drawing, but I envisioned it as [this](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DDIPEoEXgAA7OSf.jpg)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! If you want, contact me on [ tumblr](http://aheartfullofyoi.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/elle_nahiara). I would love that!


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